take place. We note such information and save them from having to endure more questions later at the funeral arrangement conference.
When it comes time to leave the family’s residence with their deceased loved one in tow, it can be emotionally wrenching. I have received numerous requests not to cover the deceased’s face. Grown sons have assisted us in carrying the cot. Family members have run down the street after the hearse as we slowly pull away.
After the body has been removed from the place of death, we set up a time for the bereaved family to come in for the arrangement conference. The funeral arrangement conference is when the funeral director sits down with the member or members of the deceased’s family to acquire the necessary information to complete the death certificate, compile information for the obituary, arrange for the service selections, be it ground burial or cremation, and allow the family to select any merchandise they desire, whether it is a casket and burial vault or a cremation urn.
Even as a funeral director of many years, I still, on occasion, get that feeling of butterflies in my stomach or a slight feeling of trepidation when the bereaved family approaches the front door of the funeral home for the first time.
We look for all kinds of signs as to what might happen. A bereaved family who has been asked to arrive at ten o’clock in the morning and happens to be late is sometimes thought of as a bad omen. A former employer of mine used to swear that when a family is late for their appointment to make arrangements, then it is more likely that the family will not pay the bill or that there will be trouble in collecting the bill. His thought was that if a family is late showing up then they must be irresponsible.
The initial viewing of a deceased loved one is another time of potential butterflies for the funeral director. Even if you are extremely confident that the deceased looks very natural, there is still a small degree of doubt that speaks to you: “I hope the family is pleased; what if they are not?” We all want that gushing exclamation by the assembled family—“He looks great” or “Mom looks absolutely beautiful; you have done a wonderful job”—as a resounding seal of approval.
I sometimes feel a wee bit slighted if a family does not immediately express sheer delight at their loved one’s appearance. Some situations reveal a delayed seal of approval. I give the family several minutes alone for their initial viewing before I go to them at the casket to make sure they are satisfied. On that walk up to the casket, as brief as it is, there are many thoughts running through my head: Are the lips too pink or not pink enough? Is the hair styled properly? Is the necktie straight? Is her dress smoothed out just right? My wife checks the work of my sons and I with a fine-toothed comb once the deceased is placed into the casket, and again when the casket is placed into the chapel, and again just before the family arrives. Yet even with all that redundancy there is still the worry that something might need to be addressed—after all, someone’s loved one is lying in repose, so everything must be right.
The desired seal-of-approval moment sometimes comes when the family is departing the funeral home at the conclusion of the visitation period. Parting compliments include “Mom looked beautiful, and we can’t thank you enough,” or the tearful proclamation, “Everything was perfect.” Such positive feedback is the hope and expectation of every funeral director worth his salt.
Sometimes there are family problems, however, that exist in the family itself. My son and I once pulled the hearse into the driveway of a mansion, exited the vehicle, and made our way to the front porch. The elderly gentleman, whom I recalled as a recent pre-need customer, had passed and was found in his bedroom suite on the second floor, surrounded by several grieving family members.
One of the deceased man’s daughters introduced herself to me and took me by the arm, directing me to a vacant bedroom down the hall. She said that I should speak to her and her alone concerning her late father’s funeral arrangements. She further stated that there were some current grumblings in the family and that she would be in my office as soon as possible. We removed her father from his residence, loaded him into the hearse, and soon noticed that the daughter was following close behind us for the trip back to the funeral home. Since it was after 11 p.m., I found her actions to be a little out of the ordinary. We unloaded the deceased and, as my son rolled him into the preparation room, I proceeded to light up the interior of the building and unlock the front door.
The daughter of the deceased rushed in and quickly informed me that her late father’s housekeeper had just recently become his wife. The daughter was concerned as to who was to be responsible for the funeral expenses. Luckily, the elderly gentleman had prearranged and prepaid for his funeral services with me just months before his death; otherwise, this arrangement conference would have been a nightmare. I seated the daughter and excused myself to retrieve her father’s pre-arrangement file. I showed her that her father and I had sat down just recently and finalized his funeral arrangements and that he had prepaid. This pleased the daughter, yet she was very concerned about her late father’s property and other valuable belongings.
She went on to weave a tale to me that she and her late father had been estranged for many years, and that in a period of extreme loneliness, her father had agreed to the prodding of his young, live-in housekeeper of just a few months and had married her. The daughter had recently discovered that her father had decided to leave all of his worldly goods and possessions to his new bride, and his children were to gain not a thing. I felt sorry for her and her situation but explained that her late father’s wife was the legal next of kin and the number-one decision maker.
The next morning the new widow in question arrived at my office alone and proceeded to verify all the information and selections her late husband had arranged for, including shipping his body back to his native East Coast for burial. The spouse was keenly aware of the fact that her late husband’s children harbored a profound hatred toward her. She wanted a private funeral ceremony with only her and the casketed remains of her husband present. She said she was willing to allow her late husband’s children to have a public viewing and funeral the next day, without her presence.
So that is exactly what occurred—the first funeral for the wife was the only time I had ever conducted a service with only the deceased, the officiating minister, and one mourner. The second service the next day was well attended by his family and many mourners, and officiated by the same minister.
Second marriages can make for some strange proceedings. A gruff woman of seventy years sat with me to arrange for her late husband’s funeral services. Before I could begin my normal arrangement conference procedure, she quickly interrupted me with many questions: Was a newspaper obituary required by law? Do stepchildren have any claim to a dead body? Could she have him cremated without his children’s knowledge?
I explained to her that she, as the surviving spouse, had the right to arrange for the final disposition of her late husband’s body. Morally, I mentioned to her, perhaps her late husband’s children should be notified of the death-care plans. She replied that she had no plan to inform her husband’s children of the death—those children despised her and rarely visited their father. She further stated that her late spouse’s children would telephone only when they needed money or to be bailed out of jail. She asked me to present her with a proposal for direct cremation with no public viewing and no funeral ceremony.
When I asked the wife if she wanted to view her late husband before he was cremated, she replied, “I already saw him in the hospital before you got there to pick him up.” We finalized the proposal and she left, only to come back a few hours later to inform me that she had changed her mind. She now wanted me to embalm, dress, and place her husband into a fiber-board casket so that she and her neighbor friend could privately view him before he was cremated.
When I informed the woman that I would charge for the extra requested services, she was very unhappy, referred to me as a rotten S.O.B., and accused me of overcharging her. She angrily left and called me the next morning to tell me that she would still like to see her late husband. I offered to dress him and place him in a rental cremation casket at no additional charge, to which she replied, “There better not be any charge for that.” I sighed and told her to come over in a few hours for her private, no-extra-charge viewing.
In the meantime, the late gentleman’s natural children received wind of their father’s death and were calling to see about the time for the funeral. When I explained to the children that there was to be no funeral, they went ballistic and rained profanities on me the likes of which I had never heard.
I telephoned the spouse of the deceased and told her of my recent telephone encounters with her stepchildren. She laughed it off and told me that the reason she was having her late husband immediately cremated was so that his children would not have an opportunity to see him one last time. She justified her stance
