Death Has No Rules
Sitting in my living room clutching a stuffed platypus having just watched my mom's lifeless body carried from our home, our friend Gaylord (funeral director, coroner, and medical examiner in these parts of the world) looked at my dad and me and stated in earnest, "There are no rules."
There are no rules.
This is profound and sage advice from a man who has seen the many faces of death.
Let me repeat it. It can take a couple of times to sink in. There are no rules. Death and grief are different for everyone.
Few are lucky enough to have the care of a loved one's remains handled by a family friend. More than anything, this was a reflection of my mom's life. During a year when she attended more funerals than any one person desires, she kept running into Gaylord. Naturally, she introduced herself. Four hours of conversation later, they were friends.
Yet I recognize that those words offered by Gaylord were not only for us. Knowing him, he's sat in hundreds of living rooms offering that same, gentle advice. Since then I've passed them along to more than one friend. They soften the fog of grief, permitting you to move through that haze in whatever way works for you.
