Kitchen Window

Watching a casket being loaded into a vehicle from my kitchen window is one of my first childhood memories. Living beside the family-owned funeral home in Bothwell gave me the opportunity to learn about funerals before I even knew what they were. At 5 I understood funerals to be a place where adults would come together when their loved one died. They would cry together and often leave each other feeling a little bit better. Death was something that happened regularly and was never hidden from me. Don and Cheryl were gentle and kind to the curious 5-year-old who would walk over to ask questions. On slow days they would let me colour pictures in the lobby, help with gardening and we would pick up walnuts in the yard together. Their welcoming smiles made me feel safe, so the funeral home was never a place I feared. When people ask me why I became a funeral director it is not a complicated answer it just makes sense.