Issue 21.10
Funeral Directors are my heroes. They are professionals who serve from their hearts. They are kind, tender and loving minutemen and women, who respond promptly to a family’s call any time of the day or night. They extend themselves with confidence, compassion, and sincerity. They are a select few who are seldom recognized for their fidelity and endurance. They are seldom the recipients of community awards or notoriety. Nevertheless, they are true heroes to each and every family going through the humbling and painful trials of death. The tender caring of our hometown Funeral Directors do not go unnoticed – it radiates in their countenance as they lovingly serve. Oh, thank heaven for honorable, dedicated, and gifted Funeral Directors.
Most everyone has a special spot in their heart for the one who has gently led them through the overwhelming experience of the death of a loved one. We all have experienced life’s memorable moments; some delightful and fun, some shattering and painful. In the midst of it all, we remember those who share the joy, and those who help us bear up through the sorrow.
My first encounter with this reality was at age seven. My nine year old sister fell out of a converted Studebaker funeral coach. The top had been cut off, and Dad, a small town Funeral Director, was moonlighting as a tour guide for St. George’s 1st Dixie Sun Bus. Well, to make a long story short, my sister fell from the bus as the family was returning home from the Washington County Fair, causing her death. In my memory, this event was the most vivid reality of my childhood. I remember how devastated Mother was, and I remember all those who came to console our family, especially my mother. I also remember Dad in the background, lovingly attending to his daughter’s care.
For many years I wondered if my mother would ever go through a day without crying. It wasn’t until later that I realized the heartaches my Dad endured. Not only was his heart broken too, but he needed to console and gently lead his whole family into healing and peace. This experience, I am certain, validated to my father the divine role of the Funeral Director.
As a Funeral Director, I have chosen to follow in my father’s footsteps. I, like him, have felt the warmth within as the confirmation of the loving Funeral Director is acknowledged. When we, as Funeral Directors, experience within our own families the pain of death, we realize what an important role we play in society.
Writing this article has been a gentle tool of healing for me. I share these thoughts in fond memory of my dear departed father, LeGrande Spilsbury, who passed away in 2003, as well as my little sister, gone these many years.
I am pleased and privileged to serve my community as a Funeral Director, and express my appreciation for all who have chosen this honorable profession.