Stories From the Funeral Home- Part 2

"Kids, Food and Penis Funerals"

    At many funerals, often comes very big families, a ton of food (sometimes booze) and children. They gathered together to pray, say their goodbyes, grieve and celebrate the life of their loved one.

Mind you, having a zillion people at a funeral is not a bad thing, as the family gets an incredible amount of support, and you get to hear lots of different stories about the deceased loved one. Plus the food is usually homemade, plentiful, and full of a variety of comfort foods to ease the pain.

   At the funeral home in Burbank, for a family who just lost a loved one, it was a perfect place to spend the last hours with their loved one. We did only one funeral at a time and the families could just take over the place. It became their home for a few hours to celebrate and mourn their loved one with family. In some cases, if there was a visitation, a rosary and a service, they would be there for 6-8 hours. I loved the longer services as it gave me more time to get to know the families and hear honoring stories about the deceased. 

    We had a wide array of ethnicity, but the funerals that were always packed with loud people, food and kids, were the Hispanic, Italian and Filipino services. Those services could get down right nutsy.  We didn't allow alcohol inside of the funeral home, but that didn't mean they weren't drinking.  There were times where I had to be in the parking lot after a service cleaning up beer cans, bottles of  tequila/vodka and cigarette butts that didn't make it into the fancy dispenser. People attempting to numb the pain of having to walk in to a funeral home and see their dead loved one, I suppose. 

One time I was watching over the service of someone who had a great deal of police family and friends. I saw a few people bringing alcohol into the funeral home and had to insist that they remove it- or go bring the party outside.

   I was a wreck! I could have gotten into so much trouble for that or even lose my job! Then in walks two police officers in their uniforms there to pay their respects. They approached me and told me that they would take responsibility for the alcohol and anyone who was in attendance. They were insistent, and I felt so uncomfortable for the entire service. I hated that feeling, and eventually had to close down the funeral home "party" so that I could clean up and get home. It's not easy telling drunk, grieving people that they have gone well passed their allotted time in the funeral home and they have to leave.

    Then there was the food. HUGE spreads of homemade deliciousness! A feast for a King or Queen! Tamales, Spanish rice, beans, salads, enchiladas, egg rolls, fried rice, cookies, brownies, cakes...(drooling) 

    I was never "allowed" to eat the food, of course. I wasn't there to eat, but to serve the family. But usually about 3 people at the service always insisted that I "get a plate". It was an odd feeling of embarrassment being the funeral home lady and eating their food, but some (usually the Filipino families) would stand by me, insistent, until I filled a plate with their grieving comfort food. It was almost like going to a foreign country and having food placed in front of you when you don't really want to eat- but to NOT eat would be offensive to them. So I stuffed myself with their homemade egg rolls, rice and brownies. After a while, I just stopped eating my dinner because I knew I would be offered food. I wasn't going to say no. I am sure I owe a few pounds to those packed plates. 

    With these large families came lots of children. And if it was an open casket (and being a mother of 5 myself),  I was especially in-tune with them, trying to keep them happy and distracted. I had a drawer with coloring pages and tons of crayons for them and often ended up sitting in the front office with a group of kids coloring with them. I felt responsible for their emotional well being. Services could go on for hours and these kids got bored. I gladly became the funeral home babysitter for some services.

    One night at a funeral for a Hispanic grandmother, I was in and out of the side office where we kept our sound equipment.  It was right next to the chapel where the services were being held and I was changing out the music for special songs they wanted to play. I found two women with their children on the floor changing their babies diapers. There was a slew of other children in there as well and they were really noisy.

   It was a particularly quiet part of the service.

   I made sure the door was closed behind me and changed the song. I turned around and chatted quietly with the ladies. Then this sweet little boy (probably 3 1/2 years old) asked one of the ladies changing a diaper (the baby naked and getting cleaned), "why does she look like that?". We all knew what he was asking as he pointed very directly to her little girl parts... So the lady gently explained that the baby was "a little girl and didn't have parts like him". 

He stood up and thought for just a second. 

Then... the door swung open as someone else was coming in the office/baby changing area. At that very moment the little boy threw his arms high up in the air and yelled (at the TOP of his lungs), "YEAH! I HAVE A PENIS!!".

    In an instant we all looked at one another with panic in our eyes, and then outside the door to hear the very quiet grieving people erupt in laughter.  "Yes Mijo, you have a penis" the woman said through terror-filled laughter. 

    It was the talk of the service afterwards.

The celebration and grief of this woman's life was lightened that day with a little boy's discovery and celebration of his penis. May we all be so celebratory of our uniqueness. 

From the mouths of babes...

Shelly Livingston

"Life Creates Art"

YouTuber, Minister, and Former Funeral Home lady.

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