The Mile-High Death Club
An unassigned seat on a budget airline means you will sit between two sweaty men.
When you quit your creative career of 12+ years to start over as a funeral worker, people look at you funny.
“You’re gonna waste creativity on dead people?”
“But…you struggled touching your eye when you first started wearing contact lenses.”
“Is this just because you like Caitlin Doughty?”
Valid points. But amazingly, I’m not an anomaly. The students in my Apprentice Class were a mixed bag of professionals looking for deeper purpose, or at least different purpose – a family physician, Delta flight attendant, construction worker, gang mediator, homicide investigator, and me, a cagey creative director. It was our own morbid version of The Breakfast Club.
The point of my pilgrimage is not to exploit death (reverence is everything in the funeral industry), but rather to pull the curtain back on what can be learned from death before it arrives at our doorsteps.
Join me in learning how to truly live!
xoxo
Graveyard Girl
An unassigned seat on a budget airline means you will sit between two sweaty men.
Worked in a world-class funeral home with a world-class twat as a boss.
Why it felt so good to enter an industry that gave me all the IDFKs.
When someone is near death or pre-planning for their someday death, they have the option of filling out a bio form.
This post is dedicated to the fellas who *made* my first year of death care.
What sort of freak chooses to spend the majority of her time with dead people?