Mortuary Confidential: Undertakers Spill the Dirt

In this section we also cover a couple of the more outlandish questions/requests that have come up during the arrangement conference. Not too long ago I was giving a presentation in my cousin’s sixth grade class on ancient burial customs. After I had given my spiel and opened up the floor for questions a little boy raised his hand and asked me, “Do you bury people naked?” Caught off guard, I stammered a bit, and my mind raced to the story in this section—I was actually doing final edits on it at the time. I answered truthfully. “I’ve never seen it,” I told him, “but as a matter of fact, I have heard of it being done!”

Heartrending workdays, killer customers, nude burials, yeah, it’s all in a day’s work.

CHAPTER 20. Lesson: Never Go to Bed Angry

Contributed by an urban spelunker

A woman came to the funeral home one day with the most heartbreaking story I have ever heard. Being a newly married man, I could empathize with what had transpired earlier in the week in Maddison’s life because we were both newlyweds. Do you recall that old adage, “Never go to bed angry?” Maddison’s story put a new spin on that axiom.

I’m thirty years old and have been working in this profession since my early teens. I started out washing cars and cutting the lawn for a little extra cash in high school, and the career kind of grew on me. In my spare time I spelunk; it is also known as vadding, building hacking, or draining. I’ve spelunked all over America and in Europe and South America, too. People ask me what an urban spelunker is. I tell them I explore abandoned factories, hospitals, rail stations, missile silos, and housing. I love seeing what was. The past. History.

I’ve been married eight months. The only real thing my wife and I have ever fought about is vadding. Granted, it’s an extremely dangerous sport, but I love it. I have, however, since made some concessions in my spelunking because of Maddison. No marriage is perfect. You’re going to fight, and if it’s not about money then it’ll be about something. In the past 244 days, or eight months, my wife and I have gone to bed a handful of times angry at each other, but after I met Maddison, I’ll never go to bed angry ever again.

Maddison came to the funeral home on a Friday, numb with shock. Her husband had died suddenly.

Maddison’s mother came in with her, and once I got them seated at the conference table, I poured them each a glass of water and pushed a box of tissues closer to them. Maddison ripped out three or four and dabbed at her red-rimmed eyes. Her mother looked a little worse for the wear; I imagined they had a rough night.

I introduced myself. “My name is Damian. I’m sorry about your husband, but he’s in good hands. I’ll take excellent care of him.”

Maddison sniffed. She tried to force a smile but failed. I understood.

I wanted to get her and her mother loosened up a little to start them talking. It helps start the grieving process, and makes them feel safer with me. “So, how long were you married to,” I consulted my notes, “Payton?”

Maddison blew her nose and took a tiny sip of water. “Pay and I have been married three years. We went to college together. We didn’t date there. We actually never even met in college. Pay had to drop out his last year when his father died. He had to take over running the garage. It wasn’t until after, when I moved back to the area, we kind of—discovered each other. Three years later he proposed.”

Her mother squeezed her hand in encouragement.

“What garage?” I asked.

“European Specialists, over on Second Street.”

“No kidding? My wife has an old, run-out Bimmer she takes there,” I said.

Silence. Maddison half-smiled at me. I could tell the memory of the garage hurt.

I changed subjects. “Where do you work?”

“The bank. Sun Trust. I’m a loan officer…have you heard anything—” She choked off the end of her sentence. I knew what she was trying to say.

“I talked to the ME’s office before you arrived. The investigator told me off the record they suspect he died of a brain aneurysm. That kind of problem is usually very sudden. There is sometimes no warning.”