This is my first blog post and I hope that I can be authentic, true to myself, and to you, my lovely Cold Hands Community. If you are reading this you might be hoping to fulfill a curiosity that you may be embarrassed to admit. Talking about death is never easy for the bereaved or for professionals; especially for Embalmers. It is in fact the last taboo. I am taking a leap of faith. I feel that you and I are ready to share this journey together without fear. I want to be able to share my experiences as they have given me a perspective on life that truly highlights the rare beauty in death and has enlightened me in a way, I can only hope to find the words to express.
Embalming my first COVID19 case during the 2020 world pandemic is an experience surprisingly to most, not unlike many others I have encountered. I made sure to note “body unremarkable” on the embalming report. I guess this is where it’s important to point out that I am not your everyday Embalmer. I am a specialist. I deal with the toughest of the tough, the hardest of the hard cases. I am known for taking on the cases that other funeral directors close the casket on or simply can’t stomach. Much like the cult classic movie Pulp Fiction where Jules Winnfield (Samuel Jackson) and Vincent Vega (John Travolta) call in the Winston “The Wolf” (Harvey Keitel) in their time of “crisis”. I am him but really I am HER I am “The Shewolf.” My clients–typically other funeral directors–reach out to me through my website, a small relatively unknown business that lives in the underbelly of the funeral industry. Mostly though, they simply text me with a text like “Hey can you talk?” because in our dismal trade morticians remain tightly connected.
Anytime I head into the prep room to tend to a “hard case,” like any other woman who runs her own business I always have to brace myself and pump myself up with my daily affirmations like “YOU ARE A BOSS BABE” or “YOU GOT THIS GURL!” I talk to myself in that dark space between my ears where I battle with the realities of death alone. I speak out loud to myself in my black Ford Flex (yes I know it looks just like a hearse….sigh. It’s a mom dog car to me thank you very much!) as drive to the mortuary telling myself, “THE FAMILY IS COUNTING ON YOU.”
The fact of the matter is that I have been preparing and training for this moment my entire career and however there is the fear of the unknown I am prepared for this war. I know deep down that I have the tools, equipment, and knowledge of the chemicals I will use to formaldehyde gas this viral terrorist. I walked into the funeral home where I was met by my colleagues who I might say, are some of the most caring and compassionate people you would ever meet. I could see the fear in their eyes and the overall feeling was heavy and had a serious undertone. These are uncharted waters and our “protocol” is in the making for a case like this. I am so proud of the funeral homeowners for allowing me the honor of being able to embalm this man and offer his family an opportunity to say goodbye. Many other funeral homeowners would encourage direct cremation of the body. These committed professionals want to be able to offer this family the gift of time that can only be delivered with the art and science of embalming. I imagined that the family was not allowed to be by his side as he crossed over into the other realm. So many COVID 19 victims like him have died alone or attended only by medical staff fully donned in PPEs. I knew how important this job was and I was determined to give this family one last moment with their beloved husband, father, brother, and grandfather.
As I put on my respirator, my “petite” baby blue gown and nitrile gloves I felt a calmness roll over me and I knew with full confidence the embalming surgery would go well. There are some cases that I work on when this happens to me. They are the “hard cases.” I almost feel like there is a greater power that takes control of my hands. I am merely a vessel. I knew exactly how much embalming fluid I would need without having to calculate the chemical index solution mathematically. My professional experience was my only comfort. The embalming went without incident. Thankfully my gloves didn’t break, there was no pinprick. There was no backslash of bodily fluids or blood. The embalming machine pumped with ferocity and my respirator who I affectionately call “Suzi” protected my lungs from the virus. The body received an adequate distribution of the chemical and the disinfection process was a success. Finally, I washed the body one last time. I looked at him and made sure to remember his face. With care, I parted his hair just the way it was in the picture so his family would see that attention to detail was being met. I positioned the gentleman carefully “in state” in a comfortable and resting position. The staff had mentioned to me that he was catholic so I ended my embalming service in the most respectful way I could think of. I placed my blue gloved hand on his shoulder and recited the 23rd Psalm.
Join me on my extraordinary journey to care for the dead and comfort the grieving on my other social media accounts, Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, and Instagram @coldhandshosts or email me for support in the prep room.
