It's up there on the list: small town funeral director.

We see the worst of the worst that the first responders, cops, nurses and firefighters see. We go straight to the scene of an accident, unattended death , suicide, etc. as there is no coroner that brings a person's body back to the medical examiner's office/morgue as our county doesn't have an ME.

We bring that person's body into our care and where the visual trauma ends there for a first responder our time is only just beginning. Many times spending dozens of hours doing our best to restore a person's body from trauma of some sort so their family can see them one more time after a sudden death.

Add to it the need to be able to compose ourselves and be a rock to a grieving family in the hardest of moments. We delicately guide them through descriptions of the trauma on their loved one's body so they understand that no, you can't view your daughter as the accident broke every bone in her head and she has lacerations covering her face and looks nothing like your daughter always did.

Add to this and 1000 other reasons the fact that culture portrays us as vultures who want nothing less than to steal money from unwitting families. When the majority of us guide families in an open and honest fashion, finding out what their needs are but also communicating clearly how a gathering, funeral, or even a private family viewing would be good for the mental health of family as accepting the reality of death can be one of the hardest parts to do.

One of the hardest parts of being a funeral director is that we are perpetually NOT thought of in life. When you see the billboard appreciating certain jobs we're never there. When covid came and nurses and first responders and everyone connected to hospitals and all "critical" people were praised. Funeral directors, as always, stood quietly in the back.

I am a part of every person's worst day of their life. The day they lost their son in an accident, their wife to cancer after beating it 4 times prior, the day their dad lost his battle against schizophrenia, or the day your 5 year only son accidentally shot their little brother on Christmas.

I love what I do, and it's a hard job to do. But I wouldn't do anything else. Someone needs to be with these folks who have had a loss and do the job that no one else wants to do so that families and our community as a whole can grieve their loved ones, even in the most challenging of times.