How Not to Plan a Funeral

This may not be the appropriate time or even subject, to be writing about but it is very real to me and very recent having just lost my Dad. It wasn’t unexpected, but even when expected it is very difficult.

Here in the south, where I live, we southerners are known for our overabundance of politeness and caring. How real is it? It depends on the southerner/person. But this article isn’t so much about southerners or the south.

Just so you know I’m not the kind of southerner that uses Bless His or Her Heart and means it as an insult or slight or even nicely. I never use that phrase.

While planning the funeral, we had the most inept so called experienced funeral director around. He said he had 11 years of experience! Doing what? I wanted to ask, but held my tongue.

We had everything ready when we arrived at the funeral home. The obit was written. Life insurance policies in hand. Pastor was there. Where and when we wanted everything already planned. Hymns picked out. Who would speak. All of it, already done. We took less than 10 minutes to pick out the casket. My Dad loved the color red so it was an easy choice.

We were there, however, at this particular funeral home for over 3 hours while the so called experienced funeral director fumbled through the paperwork. He only finished up because finally I’d had enough — we were all tired and frazzled and tired of staring at the choice of coffins in the next room — and I kept asking what are we waiting for. He finally wrapped it up.

Was that the end of the lack of southern hospitality on his part? Oh no.

The wrong flowers were delivered to the church on the day of the service (we had the receiving and service all at the church) and I had to tell them to remove the flowers. There were for a lady — so no chance of name mix ups. The funeral director had his name listed as a pallbearer and left off one of the actual pallbearers in the bulletin. The kicker though was when we came to say our last goodbye at the funeral home — while viewing the body — the funeral director comes in to ask us where the church was for the service/receiving. I kid you not!

And it still isn’t over yet, as we have waited over 2 weeks for the death cert and the funeral director botched the life insurance assignment.

We only have 3 choices where we live, and this place came highly recommended. But his lack of whatever (excuse me I’m at a loss for words at this point) just made things more painful and more stressful.

He needs to learn how to really plan a funeral and do it right. He did bring us some bottled water after we sat for 3 hours. But I’m sure we paid for that (don’t get me started on the cost of the funeral home services — they should’ve paid us for the aggravation). I suppose this is why bio degradable and/or cremation choices have become so popular.

Well this may not be appropriate to write about, but it sure felt good to get it off my mind at least for now.