He was a good man. He was just broken

My interest in the death care industry was shaped partly by the tragedies I've experienced since I was a child and partly by a personal encounter I had with someone who worked in death care.?

This guy was a certified mortician set to become a funeral director. He first worked in palliative care before he ventured into mortuary science.?

Perhaps the one thing that really brought us together was our mutual passion for serving humanity.?

The desire to meet people at their lowest and the satisfaction that comes with making a difference and impacting their lives:

Him a palliative care professional turned funeral director helping people through their mortality, me a humanitarian aid worker providing relief to conflict and disaster victims. The compatibility was almost natural.?

Except that he was just as broken.?

He was a man who had seen too many tragedies and unimaginable trauma.?

When you watch that many people die, some in their prime, and then get to handle their dead bodies, it sort of disorients you, leaving a trail of depressing episodes. No amount of passion, education, or professionalism prepares you for the trauma.?

My guy loved his job, but it soon took a toll on his mental and emotional health. Winters were his most challenging seasons as a funeral director:

The snow made funeral logistics unbearable. Death tolls shot up with the flu outbreak. The endless calls from dramatic grieving families, Then there was the unforgiving cold that made graveside services brutal.

Quitting wasn't an option for him because how do you just walk away from your calling??

I wanted so badly to fix his broken self, mend his broken soul. Unfortunately, the demands of his career also put a strain on his social life and relationships. It's disappointing to say I never had the chance as the relationship never progressed from the friendship phase to the next.?

Long story short, he took quick fixes to escape from the realities of his job. A drink here, some pills there, and before long, he was grappling with another demon, addiction.?

He had the option of going back to nursing in palliative care but his addiction needed fixing first. Then came COVID-19 19, it broke the camel's back. He was institutionalized for close to three years. We buried him in April last year.?

Sometimes, when I reflect on his tragic story, I'm made to appreciate the extraordinary work that death care professionals do. It's not the most inspiring job, but someone has to put on a strong face and do it.?

It's depressing, it's demanding, and these people go above and beyond to serve humanity at their most vulnerable, helpless moments, sometimes at the expense of their well-being and relationships.?

Still, not everyone can do it. Yes, some people have really good intentions but aren't quite cut out for the business.

For my friend, he had the best intentions and a genuine desire to make his contribution. He had the education and determination, all right. He just didn't have the guts. You must be a hardcore to work in the funeral business. He was too sensitive, too delicate, and too vulnerable. It's safe to say it was not his calling after all.?

For those professionals who have everything it takes to do what they do, I hope you get to feel appreciated and valued in your communities.