Talking about death sure does make people squirm. Granted, it is not an uplifting subject and carries a lot of pain, along with other unpleasant feelings … but it IS part of life and it is inevitable.
Ignoring death, even when it is the elephant in the room, seems to be more of the norm for a lot of people. Many of my close acquaintances use this technique and will avoid any “dead/death” discussions at all costs. A little eye rolling here, a little scrunching of eyebrows there … Its during those discussions when some people quickly “realize” they need to go to the restroom or are running late for an important meeting.
Such negative responses have caused me to solely think instead of speak. I keep my funeral thoughts in a private closet to avoid being avoided. The truth is I have a deep interest in the field of funerals and such. (Bear with me for a minute.) I see the role as one of the more important ones in life. It is one that matters to a family in need, more than words or money.
On the side, I imagine being a funeral planner; like Jennifer Lopez in, “The Wedding Planner.”
Sure, there are a couple differences. I will be the person hired for hip, top-notch funerals instead of weddings … and the obvious difference is that I don’t look quite as sizzling as JLo. Other than those things … it’s the same!
The funeral industry is often viewed as taboo in our culture; but when in need, you are thankful for someone who can handle it well. Granted, I am not a medical minded person, so I am not mentally equipped to do things like embalming; but I have a heart for those in need.
With all that being said, I am still uneasy with most aspects of deadness. I assume the only people who get comfortable with it are embalmers because they get up close and personal on a regular basis. Anyway, here’s my story:
INTRODUCING KIDS TO THE REALITY OF DEATH … Gently:
Years ago, I had a friend who went through such a difficult time with the funeral customs when her sibling died. She said, “I am so freaked out with all of this. I have never been in a funeral home, seen a dead body or been to a funeral.”
Her focus was more on that than the loss of her loved one. It was completely overwhelming and inescapable.
Therefore, when I had children, I introduced death in the healthiest way I knew how; in small, delicate doses. I took them to visitation of an elderly person that I knew, but that they really didn’t know … Just to open their minds to the understanding of the concept of a person’s body in a box as people are standing around looking at it. To me, that’s a lot to ask of anyone; a kid, or an adult. Also, it opened the door of knowledge that death is a part of life. It made it more tangible, if you will. This way, they had a chance to ask questions in a safe, unemotional circumstance and try to get a better understanding about this part of life.
They have always asked good questions and I give them age appropriate, honest answers. It helped that we had the opportunity to go without being under direct emotional attack. That also gave me the opportunity to explain the importance of honoring a life … even the life of someone YOU do not directly know. For example, my daughter’s friend from school lost his dear grandfather, who my child had never met. She was sad because her little friend was so sad. I told her to find out where the funeral home was and I would take her to the visitation.
She questioned me in confusion, “What? WHY?!”
I explained that she could offer her support and friendship to show her friend that she respects the importance of his grandfather.
She said, “But mom, they didn’t send me an invitation. Isn’t that rude to just invite myself and show up?”
I explained, we went, and she experienced the meaning of her visit as her friend and his mother were thrilled to see her take the time for their family. It was not comfortable for her, but she saw the bigger picture and felt good about her action and decision.
Now, on to the discussion which has sparked many discussions over the last week or two …
Being a hair stylist possibly looks like an unimportant, vain occupation … nothing more than hairspray and gossip. After living in it for over 2 decades, I know better. I love the industry with all of my heart. I have increased my family by many (my dear clients) and my kids would swear we are related to many of my clients. There is nothing I would not do for them, and it is mutual.
I lost my first, long time client to cancer. I have seen her every 4 weeks at 9 am on Friday morning for over 10 years. She is pre-booked through January 2012. In fact, her name is on my book tomorrow morning. I simply do not have it in me to erase her appointment and book someone else in her spot. I suppose I will be sitting in my own empty chair at 9 o’clock in the morning, just thinking and remembering …
I would mentally stockpile questions for her because she was a counselor, so it was always a fun opportunity to quiz her about deep stuff like, “How can a Narcissist be a Christian? I know it’s possible, but don’t they go against one another?”
This client never shunned the challenge of going deep. In fact, she could even take it a step deeper. I liked that side of her. She also helped me with my landscaping one time and we have helped her with some things at her house. She was more than “just a client” to me.
Anyway, I knew that after her body was prepared, I would be the first person to see her; at least the 1st who knew her before death. I would style her hair one last time. My job was to complete the process of the final steps prior to her loved ones seeing her for the first time since her death; an attempt to make her look as close to what she always looked like.
The viewing is controversial in many minds. I am indifferent because it is all too intense for me. Embalming, cremation … I want to be evaporated. However, whatever we need for closure is what we do. Besides, I don’t think evaporation is currently an option.
As far as styling a person’s hair after their passing; I have done this a few times before, but it had been awhile … as in about 13 years. Though I cannot say I was excited and looked forward to it, I definitely wanted to do it for her. It was the final act I would ever be able to do directly involving her life and her time here.
As I was getting my things packed to style her hair, I made a decision and told my kids, “Girls, get dressed. I know this will not be fun for you, but I want you to go with me.”
They sat in a silent stare.
With confident assurance, I said, “You will be fine. I will be with you and this is actually a unique opportunity. You cannot “just go” into this environment unless you are working. It will give you something for later in life … though I am not sure what? … Anyway, I know you will always remember 'going with mom to the morgue.' So come on.”
(You know how I never miss a memory making opportunity ... and it wasn't technically a "morgue," but you get the picture.)
I made the adventure as light as possible. Considering its heaviness, that was a task, but I did it. We made the 45 minute drive, got something to eat on the way, stopped by an estate sale and talked about girl stuff. They had found a teeny, tiny baby mouse at the sale and begged me to bring it home and keep it because he walked so stumbled and cute. (I didn’t have the heart to tell them he had most likely gotten into poison and that something was terribly wrong with it.) They named it Patty. Silly girls.
So, we arrived at the funeral home and no one was there except one man. He led me to the preparation room and my girls followed behind like baby ducks. They were hesitant, but a little eager with curiosity.
He opened the door to the small room. I entered first and tried to absorb my unusual predicament. My girls had fixated eyes, but not scared, and they were not very chatty. The oldest sat down in a chair in the corner and my youngest sat in the floor at her feet, both respectfully quiet.
I let out a breath and said, “Ok. Let’s get started …”
The nice man asked if I needed anything, while he made casual small talk with the girls about school starting soon. He said he would leave me to work and to let him know if I did need anything. Then, he left and shut the door. (That felt a little trapping.)
My client and dear friend was fully dressed, but covered with a white sheet. The sight of her without life was difficult to see and my task was difficult to do, but she was deserving of the effort. It was my sacrificial gift.
I did have one little problem, this had happened to me before …
When the body is prepared, they wash the hair and just let it dry straight back. In addition to the fact that the client is horizontal on a metal table instead of vertical in a chair, and silent instead of talking, and I am trying to act like this is normal so my kids will have a character building experience … it causes a second guessing while trying to remember what side the hair parts. I hate it when that happens.
I began racking my brain, Think, think!! Imagine that she is in your chair, what direction do I cut it? For the love of Pete! It has only been a week since I have done her hair!!
I tried to focus and my girls slowly began to ask questions or verbalize observations.
The 16 year old said, “Mom, how many times have you done this? Does hair still grow after people die? This place is really nice for a funeral home.”
My 12 year old said, “Her shirt is really pretty. I like the sparkles, don’t you, Mom? She looks a little different than when we went to her house last week. Is she wearing shoes?”
I never stopped what I was doing while I answered their questions. They became a little more at ease, until I said I needed to run and see if he had a picture, just to make sure I was doing it to the correct side.
Soon, they were over the newness and had lost any fear. They continued a few more questions and starting hounding me again about getting the baby mouse. Then they did the standard kid activity that seems to be 2nd nature to most. It is amazing to me how teens and preteens can text under ANY circumstance. Even while their mom is working in a funeral home and they are in the room with a body.
I asked, “Are you telling your friends where you are and what we are doing?!”
Very nonchalantly, they were like, “NO! We are just talking about regular stuff.”
Texting is a disconnect. Sometimes that’s bad, but sometimes it’s helpful.
In closing, I know my sanity and judgment have been questioned for taking my kids in the room with a deceased body. I get that. However, they are not traumatized. (They are not having nightmares or acting out in questionable ways since our outing.J) Its not as if I took them to a cemetery late on a rainy dark, Halloween night and left them there … Though, if I took everyone’s opinion to heart, one would think I had.
All in all, I could hear my client applauding me for taking something to the next level in an attempt to make a positive difference. She was always for that, especially when it was to give a child some life lesson survival tools.
That was the first time I have exposed my children to such, and I have no regrets. There is no need for them to go again unless they choose to do so … so no worries. (Hopefully, I won’t be going anytime soon either.)
I won’t be dragging my kids to funeral homes for spare, time-filling field trips. If nothing else, they have seen a different side of mom’s job than all of the beauty, smiles and laughter. They now know how much I really do love my clients. Trust me, it takes a lot to style a person's hair after death, especially if it is not a common thing for you.
And FYI: I did her hair from left to right ... and that was CORRECT!
Stylin til the end,
For my clients … my friends,
Kasi
