The easy answer to this might be when people stopped calling them morticians or undertakers. Both of those words make me conjure up images of a creepy old guy with evil intent. The term funeral director makes me think of a professional doing a necessary job that few others would want to do. When I was a kid going to St. John's Lutheran School, our classes would often sing at funerals at the church. I can still picture the undertaker walking down the aisle, very somberly and closing the casket one last time. I know my parents said he was nice, but still, the whole idea that he was an undertaker creeped me out.
Thankfully, I had no reason to have contact with any funeral directors until Daddy died. To understand my first meeting with Jeff Fredrickson, Funeral Director, you need a little background information.
I think the biggest fear my dad had was that he would end up in a nursing home. I know nursing homes are sometimes necessary. When my mom was there, all the workers were wonderful and took great care of her. Still, for as long back as I can remember, my dad feared ending up there. He was adamant that he would die at the farm. He said many times that the only way he was leaving the farm was "feet first".
On the evening of Feb 23, 2009, I got a call that my dad was being taken by ambulance to the hospital in LaCrosse. He was having trouble breathing. He'd been diagnosed with congestive heart failure months earlier. We all knew that this could be the end. As it turned out, he was sent back home again the same night. Knowing my dad, when he go to the hospital, the emergency room doctors probably asked him how he was and he no doubt answered, "Oh not so bad!" I had seen this happen months earlier with my own eyes. That night in February, before I knew he'd been sent home, I told Eric that I wondered if they put him into the ambulance "feet first". I predicted that if they had not, he'd go back home again. I later asked my sister-in-law Leah who rode with him in the ambulance that night, and he'd left the farm head first.
On April 16, 2009 I received a call that things were not good and that we needed to get to the farm as soon as possible. We arrived at the farm 10 minutes after Daddy had passed away. I knew as soon as we pulled into the driveway and saw my siblings gathered on the back steps that we were too late. The strange thing was, I had peace in not being there when he died. Some how, I felt it was the way it was meant to be. We had seen him only 4 days earlier and I know he wouldn't have wanted my kids to see him struggling at the end. To me, the important thing was that we'd fulfilled his request to die at home. I did however, feel there was one more final request of his to fulfil. I told my mom what I had in mind and she liked the idea.
I had never met Jeff Fredrickson before, so I had no idea what to expect. The first thing that I noticed was that he was not a creepy looking old guy. Rather, he was a nice looking young guy. (I'm guessing he's about my age, so that makes him young, right?) He immediately told my mom how sorry he was for the loss of my dad. He was professional and yet personable. Mother told him that I had a request of him. I wasn't quite sure how he'd react to my request, but it was for my dad, so I went for it. I asked Jeff if he could make sure that my dad left the farm "feet first". I told him that it didn't matter to me if he put my dad into his vehicle feet first or backed out of the driveway, just so long as I could honor my dad's final wish. To my amazement, Jeff didn't look at me like I was crazy. He told me that he'd never had that request before, but he could certainly accommodate us. I remember Evan (only 7 at the time) was feeling really bad about Grandpa's death. Jeff got down to Evan's level and told him that he would take good care of Grandpa and get him ready for the funeral.
When it came time to take my dad from the house, Jeff again assured me that my dad would leave feet first. I told him that while I believed him, I was going to watch to make sure. My dad's body was loaded in the vehicle, head first, which meant Jeff would have to back out of the driveway. It was dark outside by now and we were out in the country. Jeff wasn't familiar with the road, so Eric drove our van down to the end of the driveway so the headlights would give Jeff enough light to see where he was going. We all watched as Jeff backed my dad out of the driveway, fulfilling my dad's desire to leave the farm "feet first". As we watched, Jeff turned too soon and backed right into the ditch. To our surprise, he didn't stop but kept driving backward up and out of the ditch. We all chuckled thinking my dad got more than he bargained for. Jeff continued backing up the road until he found a spot to turn around...a good 1/4 mile or more up the road.
The next morning, when we met Jeff to make funeral arrangements, he asked me if I'd backed into town that morning. We all needed that little bit of humor. We knew my dad was laughing right along with us. Jeff did such a wonderful job with the funeral. He was so kind to Mother, making sure that everything was just how she wanted it. My mom was so pleased with everything. She told me that Jeff even called her a week or so later to see how she was doing. How sweet was that? At the funeral, Jeff told me that some day he planned to right a book of memoirs and the story of my dad leaving the farm feet first was going to be included. I told him I expected a free, autographed copy.
Fast forward 2 years. My mom was in the nursing home with horrible back pain. She was given morphine, which was the only drug that ever took the edge off her pain while she was there. The problem with the morphine was that as she said, it made her feel "dopey" and it made her have bad nightmares. She told me that she had a dream that Jeff came "to get her" and that she could feel him carrying her out of the nursing home. She then felt herself in her grave and could feel dirt being thrown on top of her. It broke my heart to hear of this nightmare.
Weeks later, on the morning of what would end up being my mom's final day, her and I were talking. I told her that I loved her and that all of her kids and grandkids loved her too. She responded that she loved all of us too. Then out of nowhere, she said, "Tell Jeff I love him too." I had no idea who she was talking about, so I asked, "Jeff who?" Her reply was, "I can't remember." My niece, Kelly was dating a man named Jeff, who Mother had only met a few times. I asked, "Kelly's Jeff?" to which she responded, "No." At that point it hit me that she might mean Jeff the funeral director. So I asked, "Jeff Fredrickson?" and she said, "Yes." I told her that I would tell Jeff for her. She passed away about 7 hours later.
The next morning when we met Jeff to make funeral arrangements, I told him that I had something to share with him. I hadn't seen him in 2 years, but he asked, "Was I supposed to drive your mom feet first?" I chuckled and told him the whole story, complete with the awful nightmares my mom had and her asking me to tell him that she loved him. He had a tears in his eyes and told me that he wished he had been there to tell my mom that he loved her too. He said that doing his job in a small town was hard because he gets to know people and when some of them die, it hits him very hard. He said my mom was one of them. That brought tears to my eyes. I told him my mom said that she liked him the first time she met him. It was at another church member's funeral and my mom needed help getting my dad into the church. Jeff was right there to help her. I know my mom would have been pleased with her funeral. She looked great and the service was beautiful.
I know she would have laughed when he told us that one of her rings was going to be hard for him to remove before closing the casket the final time. He told us that his secret was to use Windex as it breaks down tissue and makes it easier to remove, but that he didn't think it was appropriate to carry a bottle of Windex down the aisle. He also joked about spraying the Windex around his own waistline to break down excess tissue. I know some might find this to be in bad taste, but our family has a sense of humor and needed a few laughs. I also know my mom would have raved over how clean Jeff got her glasses. She never could keep them clean, and now they were sparkling. Oh, and for the record, Jeff got the ring off without the use of Windex.
We had a copy of the book, Heaven is for Real at the visitation. Jeff started reading the book that evening. He also told us about a show on the Biography Channel called: I Survived, Beyond and Back. It is about people who have been declared clinically dead and come back to life and the experiences they had while they were dead. I have watched the show a few times since then, and it's very interesting.
I believe that when my mom told me to tell Jeff that she loved him, that she was telling me she knew she was going to die and that she was ok with it. She trusted Jeff after how caring he was when Daddy died and she knew he'd be just as caring now that it was her turn to go.
I know that if Mother was here reading this, she would want me to tell "Kelly's Jeff" that even though he wasn't the Jeff she was talking about that day, she loves him too. Kelly and Jeff got engaged at Christmas and plan to marry in 2012. Kelly's Jeff wore a pink tie to my mom's funeral. I just know Mother smiled at that. And the more I learn about him, the more he reminds me of my dad. How could my mom not love him?
I truly have no idea what makes a person decide to become a funeral director, but I completely believe that Jeff Fredrickson has found his calling. I think the most important requirement for being a funeral director is being a people person. And, no, not just a dead people person. Yes, you have to prepare the body for the funeral and burial. But what really matters is how you treat the family of the deceased. It is the saddest time of their lives. A little caring and compassionate goes a long way. Jeff provides both of these and throws in just the right amount of humor too. Even my kids still talk about how nice he is. I have never met Jeff's wife or kids, but I send a big thank you out to them as well. Jeff can't choose his hours of work and I'm sure it cuts into precious family time for them.
At my mom's funeral, I asked Jeff if the story of my mom saying she loved him would make it into that book of memoirs some day. He said it would. Since I've taken the liberty to write about our experience with Jeff, I feel it's only right that I pay for the book he publishes down the road. But I still expect it to be autographed!
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