The emotional side of being a Coffineer
Twelve months ago I was working as a Marketing Manager in a city investment firm. Now I'm building the new and innovative Curve coffins that seem to be creating a stir in some circles (see my previous posts) - both good and, sometimes, not so good!
As you can imagine, life is quite different in many ways. I've swapped the luxurious air-conditioned offices - with freshly brewed cappuccino and natural spring water on tap - of central london for a draughty, often smelly farm building in the Kent countryside. I've swapped the never ending buzz of city life for an isolated farm with often no one but Ken Bruce, Jeremy Vine and Steve Wright for company!
In some ways I miss the constant buzz of city life - but in many more ways I prefer the peace and tranquility of the countryside and the satisfaction I get from making beautiful coffins with my gorgeous partner, Holly - she's the artistic one! - plus the sheer beauty and wonderfully fresh air you can only get from working in the countryside.
One of the most satisfying parts of the job are the new people that I have met and some of the heart-moving conversations that I've had with them.
It has to be said that, since starting in this business, I have had some of the most amazing conversations of my life. Conversations that I never dreamed that I would be having even just 12 months ago.
Gone now are the discussions about sales levels, fund performance, RDR (IFAs out there will know what I'm talking about), TCF (or Treating Customers Fairly) and lots of other not-very-interesting industry acronyms. No more 3 hour meetings to discuss why our investment process is so much more fabulous and amazing than ABC Fund Managers down the road (and on that point it's fair to say it's been a pretty topsy-turvy ride for most fund managers in recent times no matter how robust their investment process!) and gone is the office gossip about things like what Brenda in accounts was seen doing with Dave in the mail room at Trisha's leaving drinks!
No, now I have real, meaningful conversations about people's lives or more accurately people's deaths. Conversations about how they are planing their own funeral, or the funeral of someone close, conversations about how they want to do something special, something out of the norm or simply something to be remembered.
Now, I'm quite an emotional wreck at the best of times - I cried at Toy Story and Avatar, and many other Disney movies, for God's sake - but I'm afraid this is nothing compared to hearing real stories from real people. Stories about love and life and death.
Although I have had many amazing conversations, I think the most emotional story I have heard to date was from a young mother - we'll call her Sophie.
Holly and I had been away for the weekend visiting friends and upon our return I had an email and 2 voicemail messages from Sophie - one on my land line and one on my mobile - the battery of which had run out halfway through the weekend - so I knew that this was an urgent call.
Feeling slightly unnerved, I phoned Sophie first thing on Monday morning and she answered the phone almost immediately. The next 15 minutes were some of the most difficult minutes of my life but at the same time, somehow, some of the most beautiful.
Sophie told me how she had found Wealden Coffins through the Good Funeral Guide whilst undertaking research for the funeral of her 18 month old daughter. For ease, we'll call Sophie's daughter Emily.
You see, Emily had a congenital brain tumour and her life expectancy was never expected to be too long but she had survived 18 months and her parents had lived every day of her short life with the knowledge that their little girl might not last another week. However, the previous week had not been a good one and Emily had taken a turn for the worse. Sophie and her husband had been told to prepare for the worst by their doctors.
Sophie and her husband had decided to undertake Emily's funeral themselves so they could make the service as personal as possible and Sophie was looking at all of the options available to them. They were going to arrange and conduct the funeral with the help of the priest at the local church and they wanted a special coffin for their little girl. Of course, despite the incredibly sad circumstances, I was quite overwhelmed that they had chosen one of our hand painted Curve coffins over all of the others available on the market.
In between telling me about her daughter's condition we somehow also managed to talk about the practicalities of supplying a coffin for later that week, we discussed the colour scheme and the design that they wanted painted on it and we talked about the cost. What made it even harder for me, I think, was the knowledge that at this time Emily was still alive but not expected to survive the week. I could only imagine the level of heartache that Sophie was suffering whilst arranging the funeral of her little girl with humility and dignity.
At the end of the call I immediately burst into tears and sobbed for several minutes. It had taken all of my self control to hold it together during my conversation with Sophie and I hadn't realised the extent of the affect it was having on me. It had left me physically and mentally exhausted and that was from just one short phone call with a mother whose daughter was about to die. It only makes one wonder what sort of anguish those parents were going through on a daily basis.
Holly and I worked hard to deliver the coffin in time and I must say it looked quite beautiful. I know that Sophie and her husband were delighted with the coffin - we received a lovely email from them telling us so - so I assume that sadly they did require it in the end and poor little Emily passed from this world into the next.
Conversations like this one make me realise just how lucky I am to have three healthy children and remind me just how fragile life is. It amazes me that people like Sophie have the strength to carry on when they are suffering such mental anguish.
But, at the same time, it also makes me see that if we can do anything to make that transition into the next world any easier by producing beautiful coffins for people then we must be doing something right.
Sorry, this is not a great picture and does not really do justice to Holly's lovely artwork.
For more information about our beautiful coffins please go to www.wealdencoffins.co.uk
All of the names used within this post have been altered for personal privacy.
No comments:
Post a Comment