A Place in The Procession

I had driven past Park Memorial on 97th and 111th countless times, regarding the building without much concern apart from my own deep appreciation for it as a spectacularly maintained monument of early 1960’s architecture and design. Upon leaving that interview, and after accepting the job offer only a couple of hours later, I had the strange sense that I was making an abrupt shift onto an entirely new path.

To my surprise, some of my friends and family had awkward, scandalized, or stunned reactions to the news that I had taken a job at a funeral home. 

“Won’t you get super depressed?”, “Doesn’t it make you uncomfortable?”, “What if there are dead people there?”

Spoiler: there would, in fact, be dead people there.

I brushed off the doubtful responses. Truthfully, I had no idea what to expect, but doubt would do me no good now. I had committed, and I needed a good job. I had done some research on the business, I had met my future boss, I had over 10 years of experience in customer service… but I had no certain expectations. What I was certain of were these facts: I didn’t seem to squirm the way others sometimes would through conversations about death I have so far led a life that equipped me to be adaptive, deeply empathetic, and resilient through complex and strenuous situations. If I was going to have to spend most of my life working, I wanted to put my time and my efforts toward something that had deeper meaning beyond profit margins… something that really helped people.

So, like stepping barefoot into a rushing river, I arrived for my first day – a little bit nervous and vulnerable – and was immediately enveloped and drawn into the flow; becoming a part of something so much bigger and older than myself.

My very first impression was that Park Memorial itself struck me as if it were pulled from the pages of a Neil Gaiman novel; what could be unsettling to some being inexplicably comforting to me. The maze-like halls and many locked doors and hidden nooks and crannies have been simply a delight for the Goonie in me to explore. But what’s far more captivating than quirky little closets is that – if you pay attention and are open to such things – you can feel the years of emotional highs and lows intangibly layered like an invisible lacquer throughout the mid-century modern building. The effect is not stifling, not haunting, not sorrowful… rather there is a strong feeling of unity and companionship, a sense that you are not alone. Like an old friend inviting you to be vulnerable alongside them without exchanging a word, the very walls seem to wrap around you in a silent comforting embrace.

Yet most welcoming and engaging of all are the people inside. I’ve come to care very quickly for my coworkers who pour so much of themselves into their work here. Each department a wealth of vibrant, kind, dedicated, helpful, intelligent, compassionate, and modestly spectacular individuals – collectively, a dazzling array of highly skilled and knowledgeable staff, drawn together by shared core values. Each person dutifully carrying out their daily work; caring for the deceased and their grieving families. I realized quickly that the responsibility of providing such solemn and significant services, for which every single detail is so critical and crucial, and the resulting weighty emotional burden of those particularly long days, can only be managed by sharing the load and extending grace and kindness to each other, as well as to every family we serve.

It seems that the more I come to learn, the more I am invited to dig ever deeper. Park Memorial’s story of foundation is one of perseverance, dedication, and romance. Steady commitment to providing outstanding funeral services in Central Alberta for decades has secured for us a most dignified reputation, while the legacy of strong leadership at Park Memorial LTD. spanning three generations is inspiring and demonstrative of the founding family’s enduring passion for the profession.

The Funeral Profession; one of the oldest and most honourable. The humanity of respectfully caring for our deceased, and the loved ones they leave behind, is universally felt. Funeral practices have been upheld across almost all cultures and throughout most of human history. From the mumification of the great Pharos of Ancient Egypt, to present-day controversy around the practice of Aquamation. Yet no matter how the conversations around practices and procedures, or understanding grief and loss, morph through the decades, some of us have always regarded with wonder the knowledge which lies beyond our reach, haven’t we?

What’s out there amidst the vast expanse of stars?

What’s down there in the icy, black depths of the oceans?

What happens when you die?

So, just as astronomers and deep-sea explorers chase the skies and the seas, some of us find ourselves tucking in next to this great mystery of death and what awaits us after, even though we’ll never be able to untangle it with our hands or see it clearly with our eyes or measure it with any instrument of human invention. For the time we are granted above ground, we’re fulfilled and content to work as exemplary stewards in this realm in service of the souls making their transitions onward, knowing one day we will all follow.

We each have a place in the procession.