Please scroll down, to begin with (my) ‘Welcome’.  Thanks.

In the ads, to advertise this (user friendly, interactive) website, I mention that our staff knows firsthand what it’s like to cope with loss – that we’re not exempt – we’re just like you.  Please allow me to briefly explain just how true this is.  I told you that my wife died in June, but what I didn’t tell you is that three of our funeral directors have lost a parent since then.  Also since then, my mother-in-law died.  I know… we’ve all heard the typical mother-iin-law jokes, but I’m proud to say I had an excellent relationship with mine – I miss her.   Other co-workers have suffered great losses as well – one has lost a child – another has lost his wife and she was only in her forties as was my wife.  Anyway… I just wanted you to know what I was referring to in those ads – it really is true.  And while it certainly makes us better at what we do – better at comforting you… it’s still tough.

So I’m laying there on the table and the doctor is removing this little place on my shoulder – I’m sure it’s nothing, but then that’s probably how my wife, Yvonne, felt a couple of years ago – except that her’s turned out to be something fatal – she died last June.  The doctor asks me (this was just this morning) if I’m looking for a new wife yet!  Okay – right… I’m on the same table my wife was on – wondering how she must have felt when they told her that her ‘little place’ was actually a terminal illness… and I’m asked if I’m looking for a new wife yet!  C’mon!  I said ‘no’ – I’m just trying to make it through the day!  But I was nice – I didn’t want him to know he had hit a nerve – after all, he’s my friend.  But I wanted to cry.  I did cry yesterday – about three of four times – just out of the blue – not big cries – just little ones.  Why is it that sometimes we, the ’survivor’, feel as though as we have to comfort the very ones who are trying to comfort us?  you ever feel that way?  Like the other day when someone came up and said hi and then asked where Yvonne was – not knowing she had died.  I had to tell her of course, and then she falls to pieces and I end up comforting her… but I guess that’s okay – it’s what I do – comfort people in grief.  I’ve been doing it since I was a kid, or at least a big kid (about the age of 17 or 18) – that’s how old I was when my dad’s parents died just ten days apart.  Talk about ‘wow’!  The funeral home, Wilkirson-Hatch (at the time), was on my mom’s side of the family, but when my dad’s parents died so close together, I felt ‘called’ to join those working at the funeral home in helping others going through what I was going through.  And you know the rest of the story… I’m still there.  Except now, I’m a widower, and it hurts.  But I try to be like that ole Energizer Bunny and just keep going.  Actually I like to kind of think of myself as ‘ol man river’ – I just keep on rollin along…  Problem is… there’s this strong undercurrent called grief.  So sometimes I feel like a salmon – like I’m having to swim upstream!  I’d like to know the best way to handle my grief – wouldn’t you?  I mean… if you’re in grief, wouldn’t you like to know the best way to handle it?  At least we’re not in this boat all alone – there are a lot of us in the boat just a rollin along so we might was well stick together.  I believe we all need each other.  Anybody out there got some words of wisdom from real personal experience – that seemed to work for you – something – anything?  Do share!  (I do want to take this first opportunity to let you know that above all else, I know my Christian faith has carried me thus far – that’s all I really need, and yet… I know God has put you in my path, or I guess you could say He in His infinite wisdom has put us in each other’s path so I really do believe we are to help one another.)