What I learned…
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- October
- 6
If you’ve been reading this blog regularly, you probably noticed I haven’t posted in a while.
I didn’t think I’d be ready to come back to it today. But even though the past two weeks have been pretty miserable (and included a funeral), I hope my experiences can help those of you with difficult days ahead.
Here are some of the awful things I’ve learned in the past two weeks:
1. Funeral homes are money-making ventures. The people who run them are dealing with the most vulnerable consumers in the marketplace. That doesn’t stop them from ripping you off. Funeral directors who initially come off as weepily sympathetic quickly deteriorate into charmless slobs who bristle at the slightest provocation. Nothing is free. Don’t suggest that maybe they can put an air freshener in the bathroom. Don’t criticize the flowers at the doorway, even if they’re brown and crispy. And don’t even think of changing to another funeral home once the process has begun. It’ll cost you around $3,000.
2. Don’t expect all your relative’s doctors to respond to the news of their patient’s death with a quick, sympathetic phone call. When you do get a call-back, it will likely be from another doctor in the practice who is simultaneously flipping through a pile of pink “While You Were Out” slips and checking his email. And he’ll start the conversation by asking how his patient is doing — even though you clearly left a message that his patient is no longer alive. Don’t take it personally.
3. Grave diggers don’t like to work on Sunday afternoons. It interferes with televised sporting events. If they do you the favor of showing up with a shovel, you can expect to get a bill for overtime. They also don’t dress very nicely. It’s a bit disconcerting to be watching two sweat-stained men in ripped, dirty T-shirts shoveling dirt onto your loved one’s coffin. Couldn’t they at least put on something clean?
Okay, enough with the complaining.
Here’s what else I found out: The world is filled with truly nice, kind, compassionate people who will go out of their way to make you feel better. They’ll show up with food. They’ll write beautiful letters and call to see how you’re doing and hug you at just the right time.
And even if you think you won’t be able to get through it all, somehow you will.




Baby boomer Linda Lombroso was born in Queens and grew up in Port Washington. She began her journalism career at New York Magazine and Rolling Stone, and came back to the field after spending 10 years as a stay-at-home mother. Linda joined The Journal News in 1997 and has been a Life & Style writer since 2000. She has three children.






I am sorry for your loss. and yes those points you came up with are very valid. I ran into that 15 years ago or so when my dad passed. Luckily I was with my mom when they tried to sell her a coffin, more expensive, and not what my dad would have wanted…
My grandparents passed also in these last few years it too was difficult.
All the best…
Steve C.
Steve—Thanks so much. And I’m sorry for your losses too.
Fortunately, our funeral home experience was better, because we knew the family that owned it for many years, and my dad was a trustee of the cemetary where he was buried. Like you, the sadness was ameliorated by the outpouring of love and affection for him. My grumpy, annoying pain of a boss brought my whole office to the funeral home, and sent a mass card that made me cry.
Even though you know the inevitable will come, it is never easy. We were fortunate in that everyone, from my boss, co-workers, and many friends, some of whom I hadn’t seen in years(and your colleague, Rich Liebson)made the sadness easier to bear. I’m glad you spent some happy moments with your dad toward the end, because it will always be a comfort.
Bob- I was also struck by the outpouring of support, even from people who hadn’t been in touch for years. And you’re right about falling back on the happy memories…it helps definitely. Thanks so much for writing.
I’m so sorry for your loss.
I’ve been there, too. In some ways, it was really neat to see how people came through, I was humbled.
It gets better, it really does.
I’m sorry for your loss. My father passed away from Alzheimer’s this spring and my dealings with the funeral home were less than positive. Started off with having to put my mother in her wheelchair on the ancient lift they use for coffins to get her into the place just to MAKE arrangements…
However, as you said, people can be incredibly kind as well….incredibly kind…
take care
That sounds just awful about your mother having to go on the coffin lift! I am also sorry about your loss. Hope you’re doing all right.
Thanks so much for writing.
Linda – I had noticed that it had been a while since you posted, and frankly I stopped checking for a while. Now I’m back and find the reason you stopped posting. I’m so sorry to hear of your loss. It’s never easy to lose a loved one – no matter how old they are, or how ill. There’s a big difference between being prepared and being READY. You’re never ready. One of these days you’ll wake up and find that you can actually smile at the memories and they won’t make you quite so sad anymore. You never get over it but you get through it. I wish you and your family the best.
Momanon—Thanks so much for your kind words. I really appreciate it.
Linda,
Sorry, I missed reading your blog for awhile but I appreciate your honesty. My uncle, who had no children, and I who lost my father young, had a special bond. He was an unbelieveably smart man. He cared for my aunt his remaining years because she was dying in a home. Unfortunately, she out lived him. He was a very classy man and his final gift to us, his family, was that his entire funeral was planned and paid for. He even had the resturant picked out. Outstanding place that he would take us. They were closed on a Monday, but his funeral opened for us. My uncle planned everything, all the details and paid for 4 limos for each family group. It was amazing.
When my mom passed away, she had been in a home also, but was did not plan anything. My brother and I paid for and planned the details according to her wishes. No wake, just a burial. The funeral director was callous and I will never forgive him for a rude remark he made about my mom.
But what I learned from these two experiences were that I never want my children to go through what I went through. While I healthy and able, I want to plan my funeral. You are in shock and in an unbearly sad state and to have to plan and pay for a funeral, it gets to be a bit much. Actually, the money part was nothing to my brother and I, but the other things were definitely, overwhelming.