The doors before me felt ominous. I didn't want to touch them; I knew nothing good would come of it. It felt like I swallowed a peach pit, and it had settled in the bottom of my stomach, but still I reached my hands forward and pushed open the door. The inside of the parlor was rather nice, it gave off a surprisingly comforting feeling, greatly contrasting the face of everyone before me. There were seats placed throughout the main room, and flowers as far as I could see; it was nice. Someone placed a box of tissues right inside of the door, and the thin sheets were being grabbed, wrinkled, and thrown out in a never ending cycle of tears and snot. I steadied my breathing, blinked a couple of times to shoo away any tears beginning to form, and walked into the funeral room. I'd decided before I got the the funeral home that I wouldn't cry- that decision flew out the window the moment I actually walked into the room. I'd been to funerals before, this wasn't my first one, and it's not going to be the last, but I'd never truly known the person before. It was always a distant relative I'd only met when I was young, or a druggie cousin that I'd never had a real conversation with. This …show more content…
I wasn't sure what to do, or what to say. I had never gotten to say goodbye because he died very unexpectedly, but it felt wrong to say goodbye. Goodbye is what you say when you leave, but I'd always said it to him with the full intention of seeing him again later on. So instead I just looked at him. His fingernails were still dirty even after they'd been cleaned- a permanent mark of his living life. We spoke a silent conversation, and I had a moment of understanding. Goodbye didn't feel quite right because I had wanted to say it with the mindset that he was gone forever. I realized in that moment that he would never really leave. He would continue to watch over me, guide me, and protect me, just like he had in
In the short story “Max” by Ron Carlson introduces the main character of the story Max, which is the pet of the Narrator and Cody, who are the owners of the dog. The intelligent , and strong nosed dog doesn’t seem like an well trained dog, but he knows his owner well enough to know how he feels about other people and their presence. Max is know as a crotch dog, a dog that sniffs and poke people’s crotch very swiftly and shapely. It may seem if though the dog isn 't well trained and doesn 't have proper manners, because of the fact that Max will sniff any stranger 's crotch rudely and aggressively. “He can ruin a cocktail party faster than running out of ice”, this isn 't a good and acceptable behavior that a well trained dog would do in this
When I was twelve years old, a close friend of mine passed away. At first, I didn’t know how to process what was happening. How can someone I’ve known for the majority of my life be gone? But then it finally hit me. My friend was really gone. There would be no more days challenging
I walked into the room on New Year’s Day and felt a sudden twinge of fear. My eyes already hurt from the tears I had shed and those tears would not stop even then the last viewing before we had to leave. She lay quietly on the bed with her face as void of emotion as a sheet of paper without the writing. Slowly, I approached the cold lifeless form that was once my mother and gave her a goodbye kiss.
When you think of home care for a loved one, you want comfort and convenience with quality of life. A misconception of palliative care is that it is equivalent to hospice care, which concentrates on end of life. However, palliative care is now being offered to patients whether it begins early at diagnosis or throughout ongoing treatment. It is no longer limited to medical settings as more health care agencies are now offering it in home care. Think of palliative care as “comfort” care during any stage of illness.
Funeral do not happen till 2 or more weeks after someone has died. It can even be over a month. This is because they need to get money together to pay for all the food that is needed, plus everyone must be notified. When someone dies the immediate family is told in person and not over the phone. They will call them and tell them to come quickly or tell them that the person is sick. When a woman who is married dies, it is often the job of her in-laws to tell her family that their daughter etc. has passed away.
“It was a large, beautiful room, rich and picturesque in the soft, dim light which the maid had turned low. She went and stood at an open window and looked out upon the deep tangle of the garden below. All the mystery and witchery of the night seemed to have gathered there amid the perfumes and the dusky and tortuous outlines of flowers and foliage. She was seeking herself and finding herself in just such sweet half-darkness which met her moods. But the voices were not soothing that came to her from the darkness and the sky above and the stars. They jeered and sounded mourning notes without promise, devoid even of hope. She turned back into the room and began to walk to and fro, down its whole length, without stopping, without resting. She carried in her hands a thin handkerchief, which she tore into ribbons, rolled into a ball, and flung from her. Once she stopped, and taking off her wedding ring, flung it upon the carpet. When she saw it lying there she stamped her heel upon it, striving to crush it. But her small boot heel did not make an indenture, not a mark upon the glittering circlet.
When he arrived at the home the servant who took his hoarse and directed him to the room that Mr. Usher was in greeted him. Inside the house was also very ornate, but it to had also been left alone for to long. The entire house had a gloomy atmosphere that would put a chill down most people’s spines. When he entered the room his friend was staying in he was warmly welcomed. He could not believe the changes that his dear childhood friend had endured.
“Death is the debt every man must pay”, wrote Euripides. Each day we are reminded about death; a report on the television about starving children in Africa or a suicide bomber in the Middle East. Headline in the newspaper about a murder, suicide or “honor killings”; News of an untimely death from a loved one, friend, co-worker. It seems that death is everywhere. Until this essay was assigned I had never really thought about how death had affected me, or how close I was to that deceased person who had died so suddenly, sometimes without even saying goodbye. Now thinking about it I have actually been around death quite a bit in my short life so far; a long with that I have sat through many sad funerals. How close I was to that person is a whole other story though. Even when it comes to my own family I wasn’t always that close to them when they passed on because they lived in another state, or my parents weren’t very close to them so I wasn’t really ever around them enough to know them or develop an attachment.
The ride home had been the most excruciating car ride of my life. Grasping this all new information, coping with grief and guilt had been extremely grueling. As my stepfather brought my sister and I home, nothing was to be said, no words were leaving my mouth.Our different home, we all limped our ways to our beds, and cried ourselves to sleep with nothing but silence remaining. Death had surprised me once
During the last moments of my mother’s life she was surrounded by loved ones, as she slowly slipped away into the morning with grace and peace.
A mortuary is a place where human dead bodies are retained for preservation and safety till the burial. Cremation is completed from a mortuary or a funeral house. These mortuaries and funeral houses are present in hospitals, private clinics, any volunteer charity homes or such service provider facilities (Afele, 2014). In these facilities, human corpses are preserved by funeral workers who manage cold-storage via deep-freeze facilities so that bodies can be retained for some time before funeral takes place. Funeral worker performs a sacred task and are prepared to accept its consequences in return. Funeral homes workers are in the uncommon and vague position of being honored for the work that they do even as feeling rejected by the society to whom they provide such services. (Garden, 2001)
I have felt the pain of the loss of a Sister; have felt the pain of the death of my Mother, and felt the death of my Father. I know how it feels. I experienced it. It is painful, looking at those old kind folks who bore you; who took care of you; went through all kinds of sacrifices and pains just to look after you for years and years, until one day the child stood on one’s own two feet, and then … there they are, the parents, helpless and lifeless in front of you.
In the process of reading chapter two, I immediately thought back two years ago. I had the worst Stressor. I've had in my only 16 years of living. My great grandmother, who I lived with along with my mother, my whole life. She passed from stomach cancer. September 14 2013, I remember getting out of the shower with a smile on my face, and my grandmother casually walking in and said "Granny died at 2:34 this morning. I'm going to Chicago and I'll come back the day before the funeral. " My family works in the funeral industry but we do not own a funeral home and we have never buried such a close family member of ours. With my Step father and my mother losing their minds, and my little sister not knowing how to process this and my aunt just down right disappearing, I had to handle this. I was 14 at the time and I was calling on older friends to take me to the bank, finishing arrangements, picking clothes, doing the memorial video and the catering because none of my family offered to cook. I was panicking and literally running from place to place because I was trying to get things done. I was eating more and sleeping less, and from
Upon acknowledging that the palliative patient had passed away, the feeling of agony and confusion appeared. The feeling of agony because of the death of a patient and confusion over what I had just seen. The sense of confusion left me acting quiet and reserved. I was self-aware of my feelings and behaviour towards the death of a patient. The feelings that occurred after seeing the dead body of the patient were a recurrence to the last memories of my grandfather. Being present beside the deceased patient felt like a painful flashback to when I sat beside my terminally ill grandfather and said my final goodbyes in Hospice. I acknowledge that my personal experience of the death of my grandfather produced the same feelings of agony and confusion that I felt after witnessing a lifeless patient. The feelings were influenced from a similar previous situation. The only difference between the two scenarios is that despite his cold skin and pale body, my grandfather was still alive, and the patient was already dead. My parents pulled me from the room before my grandfather passed away. The observation of the patient’s lifeless body finalized the memory of my dying grandfather and perceived the feeling of closure. My reaction to the death of the patient was a reflection on my grandfather’s death. As a result of identifying and recognizing the factors that influenced my
In my life time, I have experienced many deaths. I have never had anyone that was very close to me die, but I have shed tears over many deaths that I knew traumatically impacted the people that I love. The first death that influenced me was the death of my grandfather. My grandfather passed away when I was very young, so I never really got the chance to know him. My papaw Tom was my mothers dad, and she was very upset after his passing. Seeing my mom get upset caused me to be sad. The second death that influenced my life was the death of my great grandmother. My great grandmother was a very healthy women her whole life. When she was ninety three she had