Have you ever been to Disneyland? A systematically designed utopia for not only those who barely reach knee-height, but for the overexcited child in each of us. Between the parades, rides, and interactive attractions, Disneyland has something for everyone.
I want to talk about one group of Disney natives. The princesses.
Recently I learned (not quite sure how true this is, but it sure is interesting) that if one of the Disney princesses is recognized by a child outside of the park, they are expected to go into character.
Random 4 year old : Snow White? Doth mine eyes deceive me? Is that you? Whatever are you doing venturing to Trader Joes on a Sunday evening?
Snow White: Ahh yes, it is me! Those dwarves sure love their cookie butter! I dressed like a modern girl to blend in! Promise you’ll keep my secret?
Random 4 year old: I’m 4, so no, but I’ll say yes for the sake of the point Shannan is trying to make in this post.
The life of a Disney Princess is a rough one. They’re never, not on.
The same can be said for a Funeral Director. We are never, not on.
I remember celebrating a friend’s 21st birthday at a bar some years ago. I’d just ordered a round of shots only to be recognized by the bartender. I’d buried her mother the previous year.
As I’m sure you can imagine, run-ins like that tend to be incredibly sobering. We chatted for a few minutes, she wouldn’t accept my card and offered the drinks on the house, and we went our separate ways.
This is not a job or even a career. It’s a calling. A life choice. Serving as a Funeral Director is not what we do, it’s who we are.