A day in the life of a perky Funeral Home Administrative Assistant

I work at a Funeral Home. When I got the call for the interview a year ago, I was confused. I didn't remember applying for a job with a funeral home. I had only applied for a job as an administrative assistant. Oh, wait. Do funeral homes have Administrative Assistants? Turns out they do. And somehow, I am now one of them.

It's been good. I'm careful not to sound too perky when I answer the phone. I do my best to intimidate the female version of Frankenstein's voice. It's an art really to be able to draw out your vowels and find that perfectly respectful low pitch. Normally, it's "dead" and I spend a lot of time building my wedding boards on Pinterest. I faithfully have given up every other weekend for this job, and I've fallen into a comfortable lull. Love my coworkers. Love my job.

And then (enter menacing music) I agreed to fill in multiple extra days during the summer. This leads to today, the WORST DAY in human existence of Administrative Assisting. Come on, Administrative Assistants. How many of you can say that you've seen 4 dead bodies before you finished your morning coffee.

I feel like no one understands what we do - or appreciates it. So today I'm going to share with you my day. Just one day. And maybe you'll understand.

I'm filling in at a location that is completely new to me. This also means I don't know any of the directors or where anything is located in the office. It's 8 a.m. and I've come in early with a McMuffin and Hashbrown and home-brewed coffee in a Starbucks mug. I'm here early so I can get peacefully acquainted with the office; find my office, get logged in, find where they keep the paper, the books, the camera, the thumb drive, etc. The manager greets me and at my request he shows me around the funeral home. As he quickly takes me from room to room, I feel like I have entered a new Super Walmart. I peek in the rooms and can see that instead of the normal 10 or so flowers, there are about 35 flowers. This will be one of my jobs to take a picture of each flower, write down who it's from, and then print those pictures for all four families that are having services today. When I finally sit at my own desk, I'm relieved to have a place to sit still and hopefully get some peace. Not so. I ask the manager where the thumb drive is. He doesn't know. I log in and all of my defaults are messed up. Everything is printing wrong and all the wrong printers are hooked up. My desk is right by a door where grieving families enter and want you to give them a tour of the bathrooms and visitation rooms. The directors swarm in and out with orders of service, changes to memorial books, and "new flower picture needs" -- all which need to be done STAT. This alone takes my full attention.

Then I check my email to see what needs to be done. Immediately I find out that we are short-staffed. There's just two of us Administrative Assistants where there are normally three. And the girl who is filling in with me comes in with a pinched eyebrow and a worried purse of her lips. She is brand new. She immediately skips my attempt at friendly introduction and to my horror I realize she knows NOTHING. I quickly realize that I can't ask questions. No one knows the answer. Meanwhile, new girl asks me to come over to her computer repeatedly because she "can't find a clipart image" and "doesn't know how to download a picture from an email".

Meanwhile, the phones are ringing off the hook. And each time I answer, as much as I want to snap, I need to answer in my slow, quiet Frankenstein voice and have "all the time in the world" to give directions to someone who "might be coming from the north or the south". Meanwhile, I hear a director outside my door promising a family that I will whip together a memory video for them before the visitation at 2:00. Memory videos easily take 2 to 4 hours. This promise was made around 11 a.m. As I'm juggling that video form request, I'm quickly realizing that all the work that was supposed to be done for today's services has not been done. With five minutes to spare, I'm printing 4 books (manually changing the printer location and page pull for every page), CDs, Directors Cards, Double-sided Clergy cards, obituary pages, and I go out and take a picture of every flower and print them all. Then the printer runs out of ink. No one knows where the cartridge is. Someone calls and wants to talk to my manager "now" and when I ask for help everyone says to find someone else. In the meantime, this old man comes in - I can only assume he's a coworker - and he says "You printed this wrong. It needs to be fixed now."

I look at it. I didn't print it wrong. Somebody else did. Doesn't matter - it's got to be fixed. I try to sound cheerful as I promise to fix it as soon as I finish with every other stat request. Then I'm trying to load the video on the player. It works at my location, but here the system needs to be re-updated and it keeps saying that Firewall is blocking it. I'm told to call Valerie who tells me to call Steve who doesn't answer. So, once again, I try to figure it out. I call the front desk and ask what player is being used (so I don't mess up any video). He says he doesn't know but he doesn't think any of the other players are being used. So I try to load the player again. Suddenly the same old guy comes in practically screaming that I've messed up the video for a family who's in the middle of visitation. Confused, I'm like, "You said the players were free." He insists, "No I didn't. I said except for the "H" family." What. Yeah, after you hung up the phone? Whatever. Let me try to fix it. The family comes in and says, "Hey the video's messed up." Long story short, that guy takes off and I never see him again. Turns out it wasn't something I did - it was just the sound wasn't working right. But I spent a good 30 minutes in a closet with equipment I didn't understand trying to fix something that wasn't broken. In the meantime the owner of the funeral home finds me and tries to help me and he is equally confused because he needs me to be working on the other video and not this one.

I get back to my desk and an entirely different director places a brand new file of information on my desk and says he needs me to write two obituaries, work up a DC proof, enter information in TDAW, and upload all the info to Greenville News and our website. The family is waiting for me to do this.

Where is the new girl? She's disappeared for 5 hours to help some families with their music. Yeah, so I'm answering the phones. Trying to handle all these technical hiccups. Writing obituaries and completing an entire families every request. FEELING INCOMPETENT. And knowing everyone else is just as lost as I am. By the time I finally finish that family, they realized they didn't have enough money so I had to go back through and cancel everything I'd done.

I needed to update the First List so everyone can see everything. In the meantime I'm not at my normal desk so I'm calling over at least 5 times to another location to try to get my logins. Finally, the new girl comes back and she swears I messed up her computer because her printer isn't defaulting correct anymore. She is like a "silent angry" and sighs a ton for my benefit. The owner of the building plops down and I feel like I need to be on my best behavior.

A director comes in and just looks ticked at life. She says to me, "How old are you?" "23." "Are you married? Kids?" "No." "Oh. What's your real job?" "I'm a student." "Oh." End of conversation.

The best part of this day? I'm going back over the little bit of work the new girl did. You know, because I finally got breathing time and wanted to make sure everything is taken care of. Because I'm thorough. Quickly, I realize she has not submitted the obituary for the family she worked with this morning and that we have missed the deadline. When I asked her and the director about it, she turns to me and says that she left her password on her desk for me to download the picture that was needed for the obituary. Apparently that was the picture she couldn't download from her email. She never breathed one word about a password or that she was not meeting a deadline because she needed that picture. I looked at it later and she discovered she had downloaded it - she just didn't know where. I found it. Fixed it. And instead of a thank you, she says to me, "Yeah, I wish you had seen the password and downloaded that so you could have met the deadline." To the director I hear her say, "Andrea was supposed to do that for me. I guess she had a mess up of communication."

WHAT. Yeah. This was the day from heck. Silver lining? SO glad it's over. SO glad God helped me keep my cool. Now for some Desperate Housewives reruns and some kind of banana dessert. :)

Running for my Life

There's nothing like a good hard run. As your feet pound away against the dirt, the road, the hills, they pound away from life. And even as they conquer the air, they take you down a road of intriguing memories. For once, instead of keeping my mind on what Andrew's doing now, or my internship, or my work, or my hulu queue, I close my eyes and open them to beautiful, beautiful memories.

I run past the mailbox and I smell a campfire burning. My eyes close on their own and instantly I'm 15 again. I'm staring into the fire pit, surrounded by the peace of my Dad's contentment, my mom snuggled in a blanket next to him, and my brother only coming to life to throw something at me. I stare into the fire, wondering where he is....determined to believe that he must be in the little group of boys that I know at the time. False. SO false.

I open my eyes and run past a neck of trees that are covered in rich green ivy and vines. The smell of the campfire falls behind me and instead I'm greeted with the smell of wildflowers along the valley. My eyes close and where am I? I'm 14 and I'm picking from an easy field of can-spread Martha Stewart wildflowers. I loved making little bouquets every day for the kitchen table.

I run for another 10 minutes or so and as I round back, I default to thinking about Andrew, as I often do. I pray for him and wonder what he's doing. I wish so badly that we were already married. And then as I leapt over an extra rocky patch, I realized how quickly this whole last year has gone. And it hit me that before I know it, it will be June of next year. And, Lord willing, I'll be with him and wishing that time would slow down. As I slow down to a jog and feel long grass tickle my ankles as I brush by, I'm suddenly overwhelmed with thanks to God for now and for the sweet promise of a future. If it weren't for God, I wouldn't have gotten to know Andrew. And if it weren't for God, I wouldn't have this moment. We never know how much longer we have. I want to make the most of the time I have.

As my feet find my home stretch again, I look out on the valley and stop running. I stretch my calves, embrace one arm at a time, and then as I'm reaching for the sky, my eyes close and I fly back in time. I don't know how young I was. I truly believe this may be my first memory of my childhood home in Mount Caramel, Kentucky. I don't know if I got this when I lived there at age 2 or if it came to me later when I visited in elementary. But I'd forgotten about this memory. Literally ALL growing up was just my idea of true peace and beauty and happiness. I'm looking in on the memory and I don't know what exactly I'm seeing. I'm looking at a grown up version of myself. I'm wearing a long summer white dress and I'm happy. I'm standing on a hill, looking out over a valley where the sun is setting. The view before me is a hazy golden sky, so I assume it's a sunset. And the big thing I see is a wooden white bench hanging from a tree. I never swing in it. But in my idea, it would be the greatest bliss to sit on it and swing out from the hill over nothingness. It would be like flying.

So I don't know WHERE that memory comes from. I don't know if my mind created it at a young age and it just stuck with me for years, but I do know that when I opened my eyes on the valley here, I thought with a rush - I am that girl. This is me now. I'm happy. I'm at peace. God has given me everything I need.

I'm thankful that God allows someone so small and insignificant to run with defiance against life, each foot pounding in front of me, each frustration torn into the gravel. And then he lets me come to the end of my run exhausted, broken and filled with renewed thankfulness for his many gifts and mercies.

I am so small and my God is so big. There's nothing my God cannot do. :)

De ja Vu Relationship

I think of him. I look over. He's not there. Suddenly I freeze. Everything about this moment--the traffic whizzing by my car, the sound of the air conditioning, my hand poised over the radio knob, my thoughts racing, my destination--is the same as some time before in my life. I can't put my finger on a particular time. All I know is that I have been here before. I've experienced this exact set of random combinations. And I  have to assume it's de ja vu.

But then the other day I got to thinking. De ja vu is such a pat way of explaining eerie coincidences. We assume we have done a similar thing before and think nothing more of the chill of familiarity. But what if we truly have already experienced this life before? What if Andrew and I have already married and had children and grown old together? What if somehow God sent us back to view our lives and in that moment our future and present conscious connect.

It's romantic thinking on my part. But how else can I describe the powerful feelings I have for Andrew?

I know it's crazy. But just follow this train of thought for a crazy second. What if some couples have incredible chemistry because in a future timeline they have already slept together? They wouldn't remember it because it hasn't happened for them yet, but their conscious is already aware of what "is" there down the road. What if for the same reason God allows feelings of love to grow, because the conscious already senses what great things are to come. And then in those little moments when he smiles over at you, or a neighborhood dog barks, or you move one step closer to each other- you get de ja vu because you sense you are fulfilling a future that already knows you.

I can definitely say that I had de ja vu moments in past failed relationships. Not because my future and past conscious collided. Nope. Just because I realized that I was making the same mistakes over and over. It was a constant roller coaster of infatuation, breaking up, and then regret over the whole relationship. Looking back, I recognize that a lot of that roller coaster was me being impossible. But I'm so thankful I was impossible right up until the time I met Andrew. Somehow he managed to put up with my impossible and that, my friends, gave me no choice but to fall in love with him. I love and miss him so much. :)

Regardless, you have to be careful. Because if you follow my de ja vu theory, you could choose to be enemies with someone because you had a de ja vu moment while you had a minor argument with them. Not the best logical approach to life. :P

Still, it's kind of a cool thought.

When God takes away a good thing....

I was talking to one of my best friends last night, clumsily trying to help her get over a break-up. And as I'm messaging all this advice for what to do when trying to get over a guy, I startled myself with what I wrote.

My advice to her was that no man should be the source of all your happiness. When God takes away something truly good from our lives we have to just fall to our knees and still trust him through the pain. It's hard to be separated from someone you love, but God is completely in control. If He wants you two together, He'll bring you together. And nothing that you do will make him return to you. If God's not in it, you shouldn't want any part of it.

That's when it hit me like a freight train. God wants me to do the same thing with Andrew. Just like I had to give up control of my past relationship when the guy got deployed, I have to give up control of this relationship. If God wants to return him to me, He will. I don't need to live in a constant state of  angst because Andrew's not with me right now. God is ABSOLUTELY in control.

I was struck by this thought. I had said to my friend: The question you have to ask yourself is, 'Do I trust Him even when He takes away a good thing?

I was initially telling my friend that she should ask herself that question in the midst of missing this guy that she's no longer dating. But, really, God hit me square between the eyes. My boyfriend is literally on the other side of the world (Australia) on a missions trip. He can't talk to me. He can rarely email or text me. I miss him SO much. But I also have to ask myself that question in the midst of missing a guy that I am still dating. 

'Do I trust Him even when He takes away a good thing?'

It was a great relief to just give it to God. It's out of my control. And hard as it was, I decided that even if God permanently took Andrew away from me, Jesus would be all that I would need. I would still trust Him. It's a choice. And at the end of the day, if I do end up at an altar looking into his eyes and saying 'I absolutely do', I can be completely confident that it is a relationship of God.

That is a relationship with God at the center. That is a relationship that knows God only takes away some good things when he has something better.

And honestly? I can't see it getting any better than this. :)

Separation: Everyone reacts differently

For a lot of people, the end of a school semester means freedom. But for the majority of dating people at my school, it means separation. Ironic, right? We all go to a Christian university where we're not allowed to touch. Summer comes, the gloves come off, but we all live 1500 miles apart from each other. The sexual tension builds so much that by the time graduation hits, every one is dying to get married. Genius.

I received a call today that left me almost reaching for tissues. It was a call from one of my best friends. For her, summer had already meant a break up. The reason? He went on a 2 1/2 week missions trip and when he came back, he didn't feel the same way about her. She got the break-up call after she had already mailed him a love letter every day he was gone and also sent him a package full of his favorite candy. UM. That made me mad.

Everyone reacts differently to separation. Honestly, when I set foot on the plane to fly to Antigua this summer, I wasn't sure how I would feel about my boyfriend when I returned. I'd never been away from him. If he was like 95% of the guys I've dated before, I would be completely content to leave him behind. I would flirt shamelessly with the other guys I met, and I would be noncommittal to all. But from the first step on the plane until the last step off the plane, I missed him desperately. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but there was one day when I didn't even want to get out of bed. The whole two weeks I was gone, I couldn't communicate with him at all. I just wanted to be with him. I didn't need other guys. If I talked to them, Andrew always came up. I wore his shirts, volunteered him to beat up guys who bothered me, and for every desktop picture that I stood in front of, I wished he was there seeing it with me. It was SO surprising to come home and find out that he had driven to be with me even though he was worried I wouldn't want to see him or wouldn't be in love with him anymore. Separation had the same effect on him.

And now it's his turn. He's gone, experiencing the world. And I'm struggling through the down time. I'm re-reading old letters and memories I penned in my journals. I breathe in sharply every time I read about the first time he touched me. I get tickled all over again when I read the ways he ticked me off or the ways he tried to make things up to me. I feel special again when I remember the times he has made me feel special. And I just think about him. A lot. I think about that song by Taylor Swift called "Stay, Stay, Stay". That song is us.

So for me, with the right guy, separation means my feelings for him grow stronger. It means that I don't like to travel without him. I don't like movie night without him. I don't like coming home without him. I don't like any other guy touching me. Like the song says, "I just like hanging out with you all the time. All those times that you didn't leave it's been occurring to me I would like to hang out with you for my whole life."

Security

Ever feel stunningly ignorant?

I go from absorbing complex information about electronic medical records and physician referrals and customizing TDAW forms.

And then a director hands me an envelope and says to me, "Forward this to that family." I sit there baffled. And finally, I Google, How to forward letters.

Ever stop asking questions because you don't want to sound stupid? Ever Google for the same reasons? Yup.

That's been me for the last week and a half. Between starting an internship at a huge hospital system and then taking a break to work a different shift at my job, I feel like I don't know anything at all. This is a good place to be in - it means I'm learning new things. But in the meantime, I'm pulled in so many directions and I just want to be good at something. I love being the indispensable one. I want to be the one people call with questions. I love going that extra mile. But I've literally been stopped and scolded for doing extra. I keep stepping on people's toes and not doing it "like they've always done it" because I couldn't possibly know how they've always done it.

I just try to find the most efficient way of figuring out problems. Sometimes I fix it and I'm so pleased. Other times, I just make things. worse. But how was I to know? I don't want to be helpless and not at least try. Mostly, I'm just frustrated with myself right now that I can't be exactly what everyone wants. I'm a people pleaser and when I don't get it right the first time, I'm frustrated with myself. I guess this is my perfectionistic streak. No one is unhappy with me. I'm just unhappy with myself.

Anyways, that's been my frustration lately. I'm mentally exhausted from all these new things and, frankly, I'm already checked out of this week and wishing it was the weekend. I slept 12 hours last night and gave my brother the privilege of dog-sitting duties, if that tells you anything.

So it's very temporary, but I just feel off my game. I don't feel like I'm good at anything. And all I can think of is Andrew. How he would hug me and suddenly none of this would matter. When I'm with him it truly doesn't matter whether I'm successful. I could come home at the end of the day and just be with him. That makes everything better. I feel so accepted by him. I feel like I could lose every guarantee of job security, my church could be in transition, and I could be facing the insecurity of a new phase of life - but as long as he's there, that's all the security I need. It's going to be okay.

So I know reality will rudely drag me from any false sense of calm. But for now, I'm daydreaming that he's not in Australia. Instead I'm lying down and he has his arms around me from behind and I'm falling asleep with his breath on my hair, knowing I am safe with him.

The tiny dog named after a gun

There's something beautiful about house sitting. You walk in and you're hit by both air conditioning and the realization that you have the whole house all to yourself. Well, yourself and...the dog. Yeah, there's a dog.

I'm not a fan of dogs. But when I met this one, he promised to be different with his big brown eyes and little buck teeth that can never tuck their way into his tiny puppy mouth. This kid follows me everywhere. Twice I got concerned because I turned around and didn't see him following me. Turns out he was so close to my heels that he was out of my line of vision.

His large 13-year-old owner (my cousin) named him Winchester, after the gun. Pause to understand this. A dog the size of an underdeveloped cat has been named after a gun. But, true to his name, the first time I walked into the house, he charged at me like a pistol, bravely defending his house against the intruder by circling me with huge matador sweeps and scared nips. If I was a burglar, all I would have had to do was sneeze on him. It was adorable.