Kristan McNames

I often get asked why I decided to become a funeral director.  Some people ask this with one eyebrow cocked up and askew with their nose wrinkled and twitching like a rabbit.  I can almost see the statements and questions running through their head, “Couldn’t she find something normal to do… I wonder if she’s sad all the time…She doesn’t seem like a funeral director, I thought funeral directors were all creepy and weird.”

To set the record straight, I feel as if I am fairly weird, but not at all creepy.  I’ve considered fabricating outlandish stories about my undying (pun intended) love of shiny hearses, my fascination with gladiolas and my passion for burial garment fashions.  It’s really a simple story of a simple girl who grew up in the suburbs of Chicago.

People on my father’s side of the family tend to die young, while exercising.  If you’re wondering why you never see me on the treadmill at the YMCA, this is why.  My grandfather was 53, my father 43.  There have been other uncles and aunts that have had heart attacks and lived, some have not.  I’m not sure what the issue is, genetics, maybe high cholesterol, some undiagnosed anomaly, stress, or poor food choices.  It doesn’t matter really, they were here briefly, they made an impact on the people that loved them and then they were gone.

The glossy story on my business brochure tells a tale about a girl who became a funeral director because she experienced the death of her father in high school.  The well-constructed and professionally designed pamphlet doesn’t tell the story about how some details of the funeral came together perfectly, while others missed the mark.  There’s no mention of the 500 people who stood in line for hours to greet our family, or the goofy funeral director who told my mom that her pop wasn’t allowed in the visitation room.  Really?  We’re dropping $7,000 or so on this party, and she has to keep her pop in a special room?  It doesn’t say that my name was spelled wrong in the obituary, or that a local reporter wrote a touching news tribute to my father, in which she failed miserably to check her facts.  Note to reporters: it’s a good idea not to say that the deceased is survived by his brother’s wife and children, it irritates people, and makes life awkward for the sister in law.

There’s no mention of the Priest who assisted with the funeral Mass.  He was my grandmother’s distant cousin.  He gave a beautiful eulogy in which he spoke extensively about the Kennedy family.  (Catholic, died young, politically active), it would have been a perfect and fitting tribute to my father, had he not vehemently despised the Kennedy clan.  For safety’s sake, or maybe for show the local police force came out in droves to lead the procession and block the roads.  When I saw the police cars, I had yet another opportunity to reflect on the fact that 18 months earlier, my father was run over by the same police department that was now leading his funeral procession. (This is a whole story for another post).

There were details that went really well, and compassion that was shown beyond what I knew was possible.  We got to visit my dad with our family dog, Moose.  He was a 165 lb. Rottweiler that my dad faithfully walked twice a day.  Moose had the opportunity to say goodbye.  We got to drive by the house, with my dad in the hearse one last time.  We buried him in his lawyer suit with his running shoes tucked in the bottom of the casket.  My mom purchased a beautiful headstone with his picture laser etched on it, which was cutting edge personalization in 1992.  Every other marker in the cemetery just had religious symbols and clip art pictures.

I was a girl who didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life.  I had no aspirations of making the world a better place.  I just knew that I was supposed to go to college and that I was supposed to “be somebody” and “do something” productive.  I puttered around at community college, spent a year at a university and always kept being drawn back to thought of funeral directing.  My dad’s death and subsequent funeral; both the good and the bad had made an indelible mark on me, and made me consider that I could be a funeral director.

I seemed like an interesting major, it helped that I had a boyfriend at the same university and the phrase Mortuary Science and Funeral Service had just enough shock value to make a foray into funeral service worth it.  So I applied a few weeks before school started, and they accepted me.  I think they probably pretty much accept anyone, unless you have a felony conviction; because let’s face it, it’s probably pretty hard to find people who want to get up at 3 a.m. in the middle of winter when it’s 20 below and drive out to the middle of nowhere to transport someone’s loved one back to a creepy old Victorian house/funeral home.

I’ve learned many lessons in the past 18 years or so since my dad’s death, my graduation from Mortuary School, and from a decade of employment in the funeral profession.  The lesson that stuck with me was learned at my dad’s funeral.  When I told my mom that I wanted to own my own funeral home, I had to promise that I’d let people drink their pop wherever they wanted in the funeral home.  There’s no special designated beverage consumption room – because it’s not about me or my carpet, it’s about the families that we serve, and the compassion they need at an emotional time.

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Want to learn more about Kristan? Visit their company website, or become a fan of their Facebook page…or just give her a call to connect on a more personal level!

Kristan I. McNames, CFSP
Grace Funeral & Cremation Services ● As Unique As Life
1340 South Alpine Road ● Rockford, Illinois 61108
Office – 815-395-0559 Cell – 815-904-4129
www.graceFH.com
www.facebook.com/gracefuneralhome

AWFP member, Jennifer Snyder, graduated from Mortuary College this past May, and was very disheartened by an unsuccessful job search. None the less, she took the classes related to the National Board exams, and just this past week I got an email from her where the subject line  says it all.  “I passed!”

Hello Kim,

WOW.  I am sooo excited and sooo relieved, I am just on cloud 9.   I truly think if it wasn’t for people such as you, I would have never made it.    your test taking skills really helped.  I did my usual poo poo.  I got an 89% for the arts section as a grade in the prep class.  I got an 90% on the final, I took the practice exam online for the arts section and scored an 86% and when I go to take the board I only scored a 78%.    but I did as you suggested, I flagged questions I wasn’t sure of and continued on with ones I did know and then strugled with the flaged ones after I did the rest of the test and just went back to them.   I was able to miss 36 questions and I had flagged 30!   so needless to say I was nervous.   but I did the process of elimination and at least got some of them right as I ended up with a 78!!!!!!   so in the end of the day, it doesnt matter if I scored a 75 or a 95 a pass is a pass!   so I now have passed the NBE.

Then yes, as you remembered I start my new job Monday!!  how awesome is this.  and its such a reputable place that people just dont leave.  the last one hired there has been there 8 years.   so he really treats his people like family.   he said that’s his goal.  so it must be true.   and best of all he made me feel so comfortable there’s like no pressure.    He said I expect you to make mistakes, he said all I ask is that you tell me so we can fix them together.   he also said when its time to take my state board he will will pay for the 1st time around.  If I fail its OK. but he said I would have to pay for the next test.  How fair is that?  Its like hes taking all the pressure off by saying its OK to fail, just keep trying.

wow, I just cant believe it.  dreams can come true   so I’m now off to the beach for the weekend for some rest and relaxation with my girl friend to celebrate.  its suppose to rain but who cares! I passed and have a great new job starting Monday.    thanks again for all your help and encouragement.   I know there may be times that you think you didn’t do a lot but trust me you did.   between helping with resume and giving advice for test taking, giving overall support and encouragement.   it all helped.   now I hope to make the AWFP proud of me and who knows maybe I can be a mentor someday and give some back.

Lots of Hugs,

Jen

I’m so proud to say that the support for Jen came not only from me, with my invaluable test taking tips (smile) and all-around encouragement,  but from Lacy Robinson, our Continuing Education Coordinator, and Adrianna Corral, our Member Benefits Coordinator, who has extensive experience with Resume-writing.

So, tomorrow, September 26th, Jen starts her first job as a funeral service professional. Now we all are aware she’s still in “learning mode,” as on-the-job training is as rigorous as anything she endured in the classroom. But, she’s on her way…despite months of despair and discouragement, her tenacity has paid off! If you find yourself discouraged, think of Jen. And, feel free to reach out to her. For those of you who’d like to do so…send me an email, and I’ll put you in touch with her. Even if you don’t take us up on that offer, don’t forget her words…”Don’t give up!”

And before I close this, I’d like to express my appreciation to Jen’s new employer – what a supportive guy!

I found myself on the day of his memorial gathering, Sunday, August 21st, picking up the book for the first time – it was as if my intuition told me that this was the right day, the right moment, to do so. Most of you know that I’m up at 4:00 am every day, and have at least one hour of quiet reading – but Sundays offer me more time to explore the books I’ve accrued during the week.

I spent four hours reading that morning; reading and crying. The Longest Journey is one of the best books on loss and grieving that I’ve read in a very long time. (And believe me, I’ve read quite a few!)

The book chronicles a story of loss, and recovery. It is a remarkable love story, too; Jan and Hank were married young, and truly devoted to one another throughout their lives. It is amazingly personal and deeply moving. But, there’s more to it – the prose is often very elegant. Consider this passage, which struck a chord within me that morning:

“Spring whispers a promise of new beginnings, but I can barely hear its voice. I seem to either sleep too much or not enough. My days have no joy; there is no reason to look forward…I have discovered my grief to be as solid as my love. I can’t go over it or under it or around it – I have to chisel my way through, and that is what I intend to do. Armed with nothing but my own resolve, I am in the midst of a healing process that will make me a stronger, better person if I survive. I will not be consumed by this sorrow; I will not hibernate from my future. I am determined to emerge.”

I thoroughly enjoyed the construction of this book. Written by Jan Holman Ballard, and her daughter, Allison “Cammie” Ballard, it approaches the difficult topic in a unique way: through personal essays from each woman, interspersed with love letters and notes from Hank. By the time I closed the back cover of the book, I had gone through a box of Kleenex, and walked The Longest Journey along with the authors.

Head over to Amazon to read the reviews there, where you’ll find similar comments as mine. It’s a powerful read. While you can order a copy from there (or from Barnes & Noble) for your personal library, Jan has offered to process bulk orders from her home. If you’re interested in obtaining signed copies (with a bookmark, and cheaper shipping) contact me directly for her address. I think this is a great volume to have on hand in the funeral home to give to client families facing with making that long journey to reintegration after a profound loss.

If you tend to worry, start small. Do what you can to incorporate these habits  into your life.

1. Practice emptying the mind daily. This should be done preferably before going to bed at night to avoid the retention of worries while you sleep – and it’s a naturally “quiet” time (unlike the busy morning hours).

2. Say to yourself, “Worry is just a very bad mental habit. And I can change any habit.”

3. You become a worrier by practicing worry. You can become free of worry by practicing the opposite.

4. Start a gratitude journal and log evidences of times when things have gone well for you. Express gratitude for the wonders of your life.

5. Watch your self-talk. Practice saying something positive concerning everything about which you’ve been talking negatively. Talk positively. For example, don’t say, “This is going to be a difficult day.” Instead, affirm, “This is going to be a day filled with ease, and moments of joy.” Don’t say, “I’ll never be able to do that.” Instead, affirm, “I will do that.”

6. Never participate in a worry conversation. A group of people talking pessimistically can infect every person in the group with negativity. But by talking things up rather than down you can drive off that depressing atmosphere and make everyone feel hopeful and happy.

7. One reason you are a worrier is that your mind is literally overcome with apprehensive thoughts,defeat thoughts, gloomy thoughts. Clear your mind.

8. Surround yourself with friends who think positive,faith-producing thoughts and who contribute to a creative atmosphere. This will keep you stimulated with positive attitudes.

9. Every day of your life conceive of yourself as living positively happy.

And, always remember, the women of the AWFP are your support group. We’re here. Call on us!

I couldn’t agree with her more – and I absolutely love the sentence, “We cheat the future.” So, let it go…all of it. I can easily slip into mulling over my “mistakes” – and at 57, I could create quite a catalog of them! But why? So I can feel bad about my life? What’s the point in that?! So, take Sarah’s advice, and mine. Keep your eyes, mind, and heart directed on your future, not your past. And keep smiling. Feel the liberation…and have a happy, productive Wednesday.

I spent the first hour of the day today, between 4 and 5 a.m., reading some wonderful fiction in an issue of THE ATLANTIC. I had bought a cope a few months ago, when it was advertised to have a new short story by Stephen King – and held off reading it for at least two months. It was well worth the wait. His forte is truly in character development, and this story absolutely shined – no horror, in the traditional sense. It was of the “everyday horror” genre: the deep sadness that can pervade a life, leading us to drastic action to end our own misery.

What happens to me when I read a good piece of fiction is that I start thinking in images, and when I reflect on Napoleon Hill’s words I get this picture of myself…as a little girl. I’ve got a helium balloon, bright red, attached to my wrist by a string. It bobs merrily as I walk along – yet it remains inaccessible. That balloon could, if we want to use an analogy, stand for my childhood dreams of “what I was going to be when I grew up.” Could reach it…no matter how high I jumped.

But, if you release the string, you’re forced to chase the “dream” – propelling yourself forward through time and space. People get out of your way, for fear of being knocked to the ground by your zeal. With that rather silly analogy, I say, “untether” your dream, and chase it with vigor. When you have a vision for what you wish to achieve in your life, not only will others stand aside and let you pass, but they will join you in your quest as well. They will instinctively recognize your enthusiasm and zest for living, and for chasing what you want. Articulate your dream to everyone you meet (without being a bore). When you speak of your passion in life, your definite major goal, they will see the intensity of your desire, and they will respond with encouragement and assistance or they will stand aside. It will be apparent to all who know you that you will succeed.

So, you ask, what is my dream untethered? To be the catalyst. To strengthen the presence of women in funeral service by bringing us all together in support, growth, and enrichment. Maybe it’s not the dream I had as a child (Egyptologist), but it’s a darned good one…and I’m proud to tell everyone I meet of my intentions. Take a moment to untether your own dream, leaving a trace of it in a comment box below!

July was a difficult month for me, and mine. It seemed each week I got news of someone’s death – often tragic, and always untimely. Maybe this was just the “last straw” on the last day of the month. I cried, last night, for them all. Once the tears were dry, I spoke with his wife for about 45 minutes, and we discussed the plans for a memorial service here in the mountains he loved so well. I was saddened by the difficulty of his passing – one always hopes (or at least I do – and you probably do too) that those we’ve loved transition easily from this reality into the next (however they define it). This was not the case for him. That fact alone breaks my heart.

J.B. didn’t have an easy life either: addictions plagued him – but he enjoyed each and every one of them. He always had a smile, and a hug for the people he loved. And many folks in the San Lorenzo Valley were given the gift of his friendship over the years. The memorial service will be very well-attended – and we’ll all have wonderfully funny stories to share about this man who spread sunshine when he could, shared the hard times, and understood more about the nature of life than many I’ve met. Thank you, J.B., for your friendship in the dark days…where would I have been without you? I think the best way to remember him is to emulate him – to be a supportive friend to someone who feels they have no one in their life who loves them.

I’m reminded of the words of Hans Christian Anderson, ”A human life is a story told by God.” I’ve got to say, God told a fine, funny, heartbreaking, instructive tale in this man’s life. Much like the image for this day’s post…full of painful moments, and unreasonable beauty.

Publishers Weekly said this about the book. According to the World Health Organization, the year 2020 will see depression become second only to heart disease in terms of the global burden of illness, a sad state of affairs that motivational speaker Shimoff (co-author, Chicken Soup for the Woman’s Soul) believes can be changed by learning to cultivate ‘a happiness that’s beyond reasons and that’s here to stay.’

“Inner happiness, she says, is within reach for anyone who can turn down the volume on their hectic lives and learn the 21 Happiness Habits that Shimoff has cultivated from 100 interviews with “deeply happy” people (including actress Goldie Hawn and author Elizabeth Gilbert).

“Emphasizing a holistic approach, Shimoff takes into account mind, heart, body and soul in seven chapters that cover three Happiness Habits each, as well as corresponding anecdotes that “define what it means to be Happy for No Reason.” The personal stories of happy interviewees prove enlightening, and the principlesthey support are sound and commonsensical (“Focus on the solution,” “Make peace with yourself,” “Question your thoughts,” “Practice forgiveness”), if not exactly groundbreaking.

“Exercises and quizzes give readers practical steps toward their goal, such as breathing exercises (Spring Forest Qigong) and writing assignments (“Write a letter to your Higher Power”).

It’s a great summer time read, women friends. I hope it makes a difference in your life, as it did in mine.

Take a minute and click here to go to their website to order: www.abbottandhast.com/mm.html. Then come right back to read today’s post! I won’t go into it too deeply, because the article tells you everything you need to know – but suffice it to say that I’ve made some ridiculously bad choices in my life (at 57, I don’t know who hasn’t), and this book from Chuck Gallagher reminds us that we can take advantage of the “second chances’ in our lives – to do things differently. Here’s the column…

Reflections on Making Positive Choices

When I was at ICCFA this past March, I was privileged to listen to some wonderful presentations. Many were insightful, practical, or simply inspiring – but none touched my heart and mind, as deeply as Chuck Gallagher’s talk on making ethical choices.

In fact, the hour I spent in that room was so powerful – so personally meaningful – I was first in line to purchase his book, Second Chances, Transforming Adversity into Opportunity. Once I settled in from that trip, I read it cover-to-cover, and have since passed it on to my oldest son for his mid-term reading.

There hasn’t been a day since then where I’ve not thought about the late afternoon presentation. His candor and willingness to be completely honest about the poor choices he made which led him into prison were refreshing – and yes – inspiring.

How many of us are willing to show the world the consequences of our decisions? We may reveal them to family, or friends – but to a room full of strangers? My kudos to Chuck for his honesty – what a brave act, and one done with a whole heart – all with the desire to transform our lives for the better.

One thing about the effects of such focused attention: everywhere I turn now, I’m receiving thought-provoking quotations or simple prose, which reinforces his message. For example, there was the SparkPeople (www.sparkpeople.com) email with a quotation by Dr. Wayne Dyer, “Our lives are a sum total of the choices we have made,” and the accompanying recommendation, “The next time you make a choice, ask yourself if this decision will lead you to the path you want to travel along.”

Today’s inbox brought another message aligned with Chuck’s experience. It was from the Napoleon Hill Foundation (www.naphill.com): “Those whose lives and careers have been destroyed by dishonest behavior began the process of self-destruction when they convinced themselves that one slight infraction of the rules wouldn’t matter.”

The email continues, capturing the essence of Chuck’s message to each of us in the room that day. “When you sell yourself on an idea, make sure the idea is positive, beneficial to you, and harmless to others. Just as negative thoughts and deeds return to their originator, so do positive ones. When you practice honest, ethical behavior, you set in motion a force for good that will return to you many times over.”

I really can’t honestly say Chuck is much more than an acquaintance, yet he has touched my life in ways that few “acquaintances” ever do. Perhaps I should elevate him to the level of “mentor” – as he’s taught me to be more honest with myself, and cultivate forward thinking. When making a decision, I’m learning to examine the potential consequences. I hope that I get better at it over time.

Many of you probably know Chuck personally, or on a professional level through American Funeral Financial (www.americanfuneralfinancial.com). If you don’t know him, or have not been able to see him “in action” as a keynote speaker, visit his website (www.chuckgallagher.com), sign up for his email newsletter, and by all means, purchase a copy of his book. It’s easy-to-read, yet each page carries a strong message to “Stop, think, and make only positive life choices.”

“Uproariously funny” doesn’t seem a likely description for a book on cadavers. However, Roach, a Salon and Reader’s Digest columnist, has done the nearly impossible and written a book as informative and respectful as it is irreverent and witty. From her opening lines (“The way I see it, being dead is not terribly far off from being on a cruise ship. Most of your time is spent lying on your back”), it is clear that she’s taking a unique approach to issues surrounding death. Roach delves into the many productive uses to which cadavers have been put, from medical experimentation to applications in transportation safety research (in a chapter archly called “Dead Man Driving”) to work by forensic scientists quantifying rates of decay under a wide array of bizarre circumstances.

“There are also chapters on cannibalism, including an aside on dumplings allegedly filled with human remains from a Chinese crematorium, methods of disposal (burial, cremation, composting) and “beating-heart” cadavers used in organ transplants. Roach has a fabulous eye and a wonderful voice as she describes such macabre situations as a plastic surgery seminar with doctors practicing face-lifts on decapitated human heads and her trip to China in search of the cannibalistic dumpling makers. Even Roach’s digressions and footnotes are captivating, helping to make the book impossible to put down.“

I’ve got to agree with them – I couldn’t put it down until I was done. Now that’s great writing for you! A friend of mine sent me a PDF of an interview with Mary, conducted by Erin Wiegand. I thought you might enjoy it. You can download Life After Death: A Gleefully Morbid Exploration of Cadavers, Body Donation, and Human Composting by clicking on the image of the cover of the interview, or by clicking here.  You can learn more about Mary and her other fascinating books and articles on her website, www.maryroach.net. Thanks, Mary, for all the wonderful hours of reading pleasure you’ve given me, and thousands of others.