Old-school

Very few are aware of this, and it is probably better kept that way. I used to be a funeral director, old-school, caring for the deceased, and for their surviving loved ones. I felt compelled to quit, because I was forced to chase ambulances, to intrude upon the devotional visits of families at cemeteries, to push pre-plans down the throats of the grieving. Grief is earned. Whether earned or not, I was no judge, and I was not about to disturb the sorrow, be it of remembrance or of regret. Though I was quite content in that role, and greatly appreciated by the families I served, the new expectation of me demanded a disavowal of my commitment of compassion. Along the way, I have seen and been a part of every phase of human existence from birth ‘til death, and beyond. I share these things now, because from my current point of vantage, before me, nearly daily, simultaneously, I am blessed to witness humanity in all its profusion, again, from birth ’til death.

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