At The Park

I recently made a decision to accept a position at a local cemetery. No, I'm not going to be a grave-digger. My actual role is helping families pre-plan their funeral arrangements (which includes purchasing cemetery property) with the idea that a) through pre-planning a person can dictate how their "final celebration" will go, and b) it removes the burden from distraught loved ones so they don't have to make all of these time-critical decisions at potentially the worst moment of their lives.

People that know me in real life might think it odd that I would choose to immerse myself in activities so closely aligned with death, given my experiences with the Bunny and all of that. But I look at it from the perspective that who better to counsel people on why pre-planning is so important? I have had the unique experience of experiencing the death of someone very close to me, and but for one sentence - one instruction I carry with me - I would have no idea of what the Bunny would have wanted me to do in terms of "memorializing" or "final resting place." I wouldn't want to guess, and then feel guilty that I made the right decision. This is what I intend to help my families avoid.

I've been in training for my new job for a week now, and it has been fairly difficult emotionally speaking. I'm not the sort of person to share my personal stuff easily, so almost none of the other newbies in my training class know of my history. Even my director doesn't know it - it only became relevant for me to share in two conversations with two different people. And my ongoing challenge in working with families going forward - as it has always been in the life insurance business - is how to connect with those families on a meaningful level WITHOUT being in the position that I have to keep reliving my own loss. As I've always said: I like a challenge.

This organization is one of the largest of it's kind in the world, and I have had the benefit of hearing many stories from our trainers (who are the Sales Directors)... I have been in plenty of sales organizations that always talk a good game of "treat the customer well" and so forth, but I have to say that I have never been in an organization that really made me believe, in my gut, that there was some other underlying motivation beyond "selling a lot of product." In this case, the organization really means it when they've been telling us all week long: "The family comes first. Take care of the family, and the sales will follow." Customers are not "customers" - they are families. They are human beings. And we ARE dealing with death.

This is the perfect role for someone like me. I have a very strong internal sense of "helping" my fellow man. And in this case, everyone on the planet will need what I've got at some point in their lives. As it has been said, "Death is no respector of time." Boy, do I know that, and then some!

It was almost accidental that I got to this position. In fact, there were things going on the day of my first interview, and I almost blew it off. But the more that I am learning, the more I realize that this could be a meaningful part of "the rest of my life" - the concept that still brings me to tears. Why am I still here? What important stuff do I need to still do, that I am here without the Bunny - literally the love of my life?

Coincidentally, I made earlier mention of the Bunny's friend who also died in the accident. He is buried at the Park (that's what they call the grounds - and it really does look like a park, very serene and peaceful and beautiful). On Thursday, I took my lunch and sat in my car just outside the chapel where his services were held. At that time, the Bunny was still alive, at least physically. I just sat there, and reminisced, and absorbed the beauty of my surroundings. I was amazed that a whole year and a half has gone by! Life keeps moving ahead. I'm still moving ahead... not as fast as I have historically, but faster than I was at the start of this journey; the one where I embark on "the rest of my life."

My house renovations are nearly complete. The house is beautiful; it has a lot of the "Shirley feel" built into it. But if you look closely, you can still see some traces of the Bunny. I think he would have liked how everything came out. And believing that he would have makes me all the more determined that I will enjoy it, and enjoy my life... for the both of us.