The Funeral Director

I can be man, woman, husband or wife
Playing the role I chose for my life.
I’m in the foreground of every scene;
Day after day, it’s become my routine.
Let’s talk a bit about what I do.
In my role as leader of our special crew.
I play the conductor at funeral services
Whatever the context or scope of observances
I teach resident trainees everything I can
Striving for each to become a better man
I’m chauffeur, embalmer and standby pallbearer
Consoler and listener and final preparer
I must not falter when serving my flock
Or else they’ll cross over when passing my block
I smile and act friendly to all those I meet
Whenever I pass anyone on the street
I keep well informed and abreast of the news
And plan careful answers, when asked for my views
Dealing with people demands much restraint
There’s always a critic voicing complaint
To clubs I belong and serve in conjunction
With committees appointed for all social functions
My day starts quite early and most times ends late
Caring for people, their problems, their mates.
My family gets weary and for they must wait
For when people are dying they don’t pick a date.
I provide what is needed with sincere devotion
Be it sympathy, empathy, even emotion
A great many tasks of me are demanded
No matter how tired, I complete what’s commanded
I deal in a service folks do find distasteful
But when it is needed, they’re humble and grateful.
I cannot believe that I’ve become callous
As judgments are passed many times with much malice
I must not offend, but uphold my position;
As that of a friend, and the local mortician.

-Richard A. Santore