I Know

I know buckling up and wearing a helmet doesn't always save you.

I know embalming. Sometimes I think I have always done this, even before I was born. It fits me. It brings me closer to something bigger in this life.

I know that for the little baby I embalmed not to long ago (her death caused by a savage beating) my table was probably the only quiet place in the world she had ever experienced. Quiet at last. No more punishment for that little one.

I know the string tension on my piano is nearly 30 tons.

I know that is you use too strong a Formalin index on a jaundice case that the skin will turn from yellow to green.

I know the world is fragile, full of shadows and fears... many people fill it with regrets and should-haves. Heavy and dark. The curtains are drawn and there is an IN door, but no way out. And I know I will never see it this way.

I know a person will kill themselves by any means necessary when they decide their life should end.

I know there is nothing better than a chestnut mare and a comfortable saddle after a long day.

I know my space will always be orderly. Not a single thing out of place. No old magazines, not trash, and no maggots.

I know that hospitals have birthing floors and morgues.

I know bodies found in water usually smell the worse, but all flesh is messy.

I know west coast and east coast funeral homes only remotely resemble one another in the fact that they both dispose of dead human bodies.