Another day in the life of a young female funeral director.
Something kind of funny happened the other day.
I was working calling hours and had just finished talking to the gentleman who was ‘in charge’ of the funeral arrangements for the deceased. As I turned to walk away a family member (or friend, I really don’t know) came up to him and asked him who I was. His reply, “Oh, I think she’s the secretary or something.”
At this point I was already too far away to casually turn around and say, “Oh, no, I’m the funeral director!” without it being just a tad awkward. And honestly, I’m used to it. I’m used to the weird stares that I get as I shake a hand and say, “Hi, I’m Lauren, the funeral director.” I mean, yes, I am a girl. Yes, I am young. But I mean guys, is it really that odd?
Don’t answer that.
Because I know it’s odd. My fiancé changed careers in the last year. I met his new coworkers at a Christmas party this past December. One of them asked me what I did. I told her. They replied with the expected “Oh…..” as I shrugged it off with a joke to make light of my ‘morbid’ career. Guys, death is weird, okay? Therefore I’m weird by association. It’s okay.
But I’m not a secretary. At least, I’m not just a secretary. My job is more than that. I’m also a make-up artist. I’m an event planner. I’m an organizer. I’m a public speaker. A listener. A shoulder to cry on. I’m someone who is expected to fix things. I do fix things. I can remove a pacemaker. I can tell you what color would go best with that dress. I can tell you the best restaurants to have a funeral breakfast and what florist do the best arrangements. I’m a writer that can help you memorialize your loved one in an obituary. If you call me at ten at night I will answer your call. My hours are always open.
I’m a funeral director. And I’m proud of it.