Dying is Expensive

I got the call from the funeral home a few days after they finally got around to picking up my brother's body, which had been sitting at the county morgue for days and days. They'd long been notified by my brother's girlfriend, who had been stuck with the arrangements after his sudden suicide. It was rough on her. I'd rather expected it. The home took its sweet time, now they had the body. I hadn't seen him in years, and wanted to pay my respects before his cremation. His girlfriend gave permission, as was her right via his will.

"That will be $400 for the viewing," the woman informed me.

"For WHAT?" I demanded, affronted.

"Well, we have to put on a shroud and prepare the body," she began.

"You'll do no such thing. And I am not going to pay you one red cent. This man is my brother and I have every right to see him just as he is."

The woman was horrified. She argued vehemently with me.

I refused to budge. In fact, the more she pushed me to pay, the angrier I got. I nearly came out of my chair.

"I am an Army veteran. Grew up on a farm. Seen corpses and dead things all my life. What's on that slab is a meat sack. What animated my brother is long gone. Now I am going to come see him and you cannot stop me. I am not going to pay you for the right to see my own brother's body. Do not put a hand on him. Do not put makeup on him. Leave him alone. Do we understand each other?" I was livid.

She hemmed and hawed and put me on hold for seven minutes.

When she came back on she spent several long minutes describing how badly deteriorated my brother's body was. How horrible and horrific this might be for me. How this could be a terrible shock to my delicate sensibilities. (This to someone who gets out of a car and stares at road kill to see what kind of animal it is.) She was determined to squeeze money out of me. All that came out of me was fury. She was also exceptionally fortunate I was not standing in front of her. I was spewing fumes like Krakatoa.

What I said next is unprintable. But it got the message across.

When I visited, a hilarious cartoon character who looked like Lurch from the Addams Family, only shorter, greeted me solemnly at the door. I had to stifle a laugh. I don't take death very seriously.

My brother looked just fine. Perfectly fine, in fact, so much so that I got the impression that if I smacked him hard enough for being stupid enough to commit suicide, he might apologize.

He didn't.

I left. I only wanted to say goodbye to his remains. Peter was long gone.

The funeral business is sneaky, underhanded, secretive and vicious. It keeps you in the dark at a time when you are most vulnerable. The same huge corporations own many of the same companies and can charge you easily double the same amount for cremation depending on which funeral home you happen to enter and if you happen to be dumb enough to mention the word "inheritance"in the presence of the funeral home operator. Your price just skyrocketed.

While I do not share the emotional attachment that many have to the superstitions around death, burial and cemeteries, I do understand honoring passages. In fact I love wakes, which celebrate life, tell off-color stories, allow friends and family to relieve joy and memories, and do honor to a life well-lived. Now that's a sendoff. However I despise an industry that preys- most especially on the very religious poor- to remove every last penny from the wallets of the weary and devastated. Most particularly if this comes after a long and extremely expensive illness which has already drained the coffers of this family by the medical industry. Now right this way into the funeral parlor, which will be happy to take care of you. Or rather, whatever pennies you may have left.

In poor communities, insurance might pay a few thousand for a death. The death services industry not only sucks all that up but also the rest of the family's savings, because of the rich (and often quite wonderful) traditions that often accompany how different communities honor their dead. I am not saying respecting one's dead is a bad thing. I am saying that being a parasite on the backs of those in pain is the definition of evil. Draining their savings when they can hardly say no makes those industries little more than vultures, ticks, maggots feeding off the still-living. They have all kinds of seminars and sales training to teach their employees how to separate every single last dime from you that they can- all in the name of "honoring the dead," while sending your insensible loved one into the deep dark inside a decorated casket they can't see, can't enjoy, on a burial plot with a view they can't admire. It's hogwash and sheer stupidity. As though a couple buried together is going to sit there and reminisce while having coffee. Do you honestly believe that? This is what allows these guys to get thousands upon thousands of your hard earned dollars. Superstition. And utter nonsense.

I had no problem-and would not again- getting in the pasty faces of those who would vacuum your wallet at time when you are most vulnerable.What I recommend is that before someone sells you on the Xiao En Center Casket for $36,400 for your loved one, whose body is a lot better off providing valuable nutrients for trees just like our ancient ancestors did, you might want to do your research.

The so-called "death services" industry is predatory. They are very carefully trained to know precisely how to prey on your loved ones right when they are least able to deal with financial matters. Folks say yes to just about anything to say goodbye the ones they love. The industry counts on that sentiment. They also prey on the ever-present feelings of guilt for what should have been said or done when Daddy was alive, when Momma was still with us. What better way to assuage that guilt than a pricey send off? Today the average cost of a funeral is between $7-10,000. Is your family prepared for that? Or vastly more, depending on the "service package" you purchase?

I'm of the mind that once the lights are turned out in my motel or hostel, sleep is largely the same. You cannot possibly get me to pay $250 a night if other options exist. To me that's criminal. So when my lights are out, why in god's name put me in a custom casket with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (I'm not making this up)? I could care less if someone blowtorched my remains and saved the dime. I'm not going to feel anything, nor am I going to be insulted. It's the living who get taken to the cleaners because they think all this stuff is so important.

If you happen to be one of those folks who feels strongly about ceremony, start planning to protect your family and your assets now. One hopes that you don't demand that $217,000 solid gold Malaysian coffin. That is one way to ensure that your grave will get robbed.

Just like the death services industry will be quite happy to rob you.