What a week! Tragic cases and sod's law on timing.

I'm still working part time in my previous occupation. My boss has been brilliant, and as long as I don't miss any deadlines (no pun intended), and keep a tab on my hours, I can work when I want.

This has made a huge difference - it's been what's enabled me to pursue my new career. When needed, therefore, I like to help out, and repay the flexibility that my boss has shown.

The company I work for has recently bought a competitor and so we need to start integrating computer systems etc. I am considered a bit of a "guru" on our system, so was the natural choice to go and train our new colleagues. We're in the same town, so no biggie on travelling. As, for the last few weeks there had been no work at all, I offered to go full time, as we were looking to integrate systems at the end of September (or Tuesday, as it's better known). I put three criteria on my offer to work:

1. I would like to take the hours in time, rather than money (this was popular with the boss, for obvious budgetary reasons).
2. I could keep my mobile on silent (in the vain hope that a desperate FD would call and offer me some work
3. I would undertake any ceremonies which came up.

I've had four gigs this week!

It's fair to say that I am absolutely knackered! Training is tiring for both the giver and receiver, so I was expecting to feel a bit sleepy by this weekend, but, man alive, talk about Sod's law on the timing!

The ceremonies were pretty varied too!

Last weekend:

I cried at a family visit - I apologised - it's unprofessional, but this was a particularly difficult ceremony. I was always dreading my first baby funeral. I never dreamt that my first ceremony for a stillborn would be a double ceremony - for both the baby and his Mum. It was just an absolute choker. Nice people - good people, the sort who care for others, and this happens to them. But they were lovely and gave me lots of great stories about the deceased.

I'd done another visit on Friday evening, so all weekend (apart from a couple of hours out) I was sitting here at the computer writing scripts and tributes.

Monday - training all day

Tuesday - in theory a day's holiday, but I went into the new company for an hour's training before heading off to my local crem for a ceremony at 11:45. This was ceremony for an elderly gentleman who'd had a good life and again, there were great stories to tell. It was well received and I've had a lovely thank you note since.

Then I had to leg it to the crem at a nearby town (about 15 miles away) for a 1:45 double slot for a 39 year old man. This was a big ceremony (not everybody could get into the chapel) and there had been lots of fingers in pies with regard to the tribute (which is why I only send the tribute out, not the whole ceremony, or I'd have to edit it five minutes before, when the family arrives, and deliver it from a laptop!). I'd had several conversations with the FD as the family kept changing their minds what they wanted to do (follow the coffin or be in first, etc) but it all went smoothly in the end. Again, folks have been kind enough to send thank you emails, which is very gratifying, as it helps to reassure me that I'm doing it right. After the ceremony I went to my usual office to pick up some prints etc, to take them back to new co the next day - some day's holiday.

Wednesday was the double ceremony - and a real test of character. My voice cracked a couple of times, but I managed not to break down (it was touch and go) and so the ceremony was delivered. I don't feel that it was my best performance (although not for the want of trying) but the family seemed pleased as did the Funeral Director. I realise I sound like a hard bitch on this one, but this was a funeral director I've been trying to get work with for a while, so I was glad of the opportunity, but not the situation. The FD was really kind and offered me the chance to say that I couldn't do this gig once I'd heard the circumstances, but I really felt that I couldn't reject them at this worst possible of times. If that sounds pompous or too full of myself, then I'm sorry, but I genuinely didn't want to turn these folks away.

And then in the afternoon, I had to go and train people! I was standing there saying "press this button" etc, thinking "but what does it matter? It's only a computer. It's only a finance company, it's not THAT important".

Thursday was my final ceremony for the week, and elderly gentleman who'd been poorly and had Alzheimer's. Still very sad for his family, of course, but less tragic, so a much calmer ceremony. Usually, if someone is reading, I offer to take over, or to read it for them if they feel that the emotion will render them incapable. I could only partially do that this time, as the man's grandson read a poem in French! I could probably have read it (I know what the words should sound like), but I would have got all of the inflections wrong, I'm sure. I had an English translation too, just in case.

Then it was back to work again for more training.

So that was all of my gigs for the week, and then I did a full day's work on Friday. Of course, when I've got home this week I've either been doing work for the ceremonies, or work for the training, so I've ended up sitting at the computer til nearly midnight, just trying to make sure that everything is covered!

It's now been decided that the transfer will happen at the end of October instead - panic over! Sod's law will say that I won't get any more ceremonies for three weeks!

It's proved to me a couple of things:

1. I should learn to say no- I can't be in two places at once.
2. I really love the funerals job, no matter how tragic the circumstances, (at the moment it's hard to think of something worse than Wednesday's ceremony, but I'm sure there will be). It's the most rewarding, satisfying thing that I've ever done. Even if people drive me mad (I now feel as though I'm on call, 24/7), it's still the best job that I could do. It would be great if I could give up the other nonsense!

Am I a bad person.....?

I ask, because the family visit for my 16th ceremony was hysterical!

Okay, these weren't the most tragic of circumstances. The man wasn't that old, but old enough to have a great grandchild, so he'd had a fair crack at life. However, he was a character, and with his three kids (all grown, natch), we just had such a laugh! They were telling me all these tales about their Dad, who was a bit of a character, and it was a scream.

Obviously, come the day, things were more subdued, but we still managed to get a few laughs from them and, again, they all seemed happy with the ceremony. Nice people.

But then a tragic one followed.

You don't want to be doing a funeral on the 25th birthday of the deceased.

'Nuff said.

What I did over the summer....

I realise that I haven't been keeping my readership (!) up to date.

Ceremony number 12. This is the one I was assessed for accreditation. It was fairly short notice, but a lovely lady, telling the life story of her aged and lovely Mum.

This would have been one that I'd have chosen for accreditation as, apart from a problem with flowers at the beginning, it all went smoothly.

Then came number 13. The hospice lady, whose illness progressed before I could get to meet her. This was tough.

Perhaps I should explain. My Mum died nearly two years ago. This lady had the same name, was roughly the same age and also died of cancer. She had three daughters (I'm one of three girls) and there was just something about this family that I really liked. Because I'd been involved before she died, I got a call very soon after her death and ended up meeting the family less than 48 hours after the poor lady had gone. It was all a bit raw.

The ceremony went really well, there were lovely tributes from family members and a work colleague. At one point, during the ceremony, I thought I was going to lose it, as I looked across the chapel and saw one of the grandchildren sobbing his heart out. But I held it together.

Afterwards, I was standing next to the funeral director who asked me if I was okay. I answered yes (what else does one answer?). The FD then said it looked as though I was a bit tired (Thanks!) and wondered if this was affecting me a bit more than usual. I swung around, so that nobody else could see the tears come to my eyes, as I explained about my Mum. I then spent the next five minutes apologising for being unprofessional etc. A tough one.

Number 14 was almost the opposite, another one of those where I felt that I cared more than the family. I hadn't been able to have a visit, just a few phone calls with family members who weren't particularly forthcoming. Considering that this lady was young enough to have both parents alive, it seemed particularly sad to me that so little effort was being made.

There were tears during the ceremony, but afterwards, the deceased's father just wanted to tell us about all of his war experiences, rather than his daughter. Maybe that was his way of dealing with grief. Maybe the deceased was a complete cow. Maybe it's best not to speculate.

Number 15 was another lady, but this time an elderly lady (she of the funny, see post below). We nearly hit a problem with this one. After all,these are non-religious funerals and the chief mourner wanted this poem all about heaven. I could understand the sentiment; wanting to give comfort to those left behind but I objected, publicly for the reason that it was all about heaven, and privately for the reason that it had a definite touch of the Rupert Bears about it. In the end, however, we compromised. I said that she could have it in the ceremony, but that I wouldn't say it. She had her sister-in-law read it instead and everyone seemed happy. Very happy, in fact. I got invited to a wedding on the back of it. I declined - they were lovely people but I don't know them, they don't know me and they certainly wouldn't want to see me drunk!

Official at last!

I'm accredited!

Let joy be unconfined.

I have a certificate and everything!