My mother, Virginia, passed away on Friday, between midnight and 2:30 in the morning. This week is filled with the wake, funeral, family, and figuring out all kinds of riddles, from where my mother’s dog will wind up, to what sort of catering is appropriately somber. (No wings!)
There have been several occasions where I wanted to write a post:
– What is the training for a funeral parlor employee?
– How many casket making companies are there in this country?
– What is the title of the individuals who remove a body from a home?
Among others. It may seem glib, but death-related occupations are somewhat fascinating. It must be interesting to work in a field where you’re pretty much guaranteed that you’ll never run out of business. That said, I simply don’t have the time to write a full post this week, and part of me doubts that I’ll feel inclined to pen next week’s post about her passing. But it strikes me as so odd that the wedding industry gets so much attention, while the funeral industry seems to be its unrecognized goth twin sister.
Thank you everyone for your support and kind wishes, your emails, donations, and eyes on the screen. It’s kept me from coming unglued over the past five months, and I’m truly grateful.
If you, or someone you know, is in the market for a dog, I now have a four-year-old Havanese named Nigel, who is afraid of men and children, and resembles a very excitable ottoman. He’s a good boy, if a little eccentric. Drop me a line, AinsleyDrew at gmail dot com if you’re interested.