![]() A week before, Lisa made the incredibly difficult decision to move her to hospice care so that her poor body could finally rest. Because she was so young the doctors just kept trying everything to fix her. Interventions and multiple surgeries had been fruitless. ![]() A sudden medical crisis that was never fully diagnosed culminated in a stroke after many other unexpected complications. Kathryn had been through so much in the last few weeks of her life. Lisa had called me when Kathryn died on the East coast, asking me to help bring her home. Her wife was meeting me here to prepare her for burial. Here she was in front of me, and I had a job to do. She traveled for work a lot, I started a different career. We worked in an intimate environment where co-workers become family. We worked together before I became a funeral director. Kathryn, my friend, is lying dead in front of me. Her curly hair is matted on one side, shaved on the other. There is another row above her ear and her skull is obviously missing from under her skin between the two tracks. ![]() As I come around her head, the row of staples on her scalp goes from her hairline back behind her head where I can’t even see them end. I take a deep breath and walk toward her. I can see she is still in her hospital gown and there is a port still attached to her neck. Her head is tilted slightly away from me so I can’t see her face yet. She is lying, partially wrapped in a plastic sheet, on a cold metal table in our prep room.
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