03/28/2026
https://www.facebook.com/share/p/18cQFRc1K1/
FUNERAL STORIES - The New Intern
The intern arrived at the local funeral home with a new degree and a lot of confidence. His tablet was loaded with the latest grief counseling theories and bereavement management software, and he wasted no time expressing his disdain for what he called the “archaic” methods of the older, experienced director.
He frequently rolled his eyes at the director’s emphasis on quiet presence and small, personalized details, muttering about "optimizing workflows" and "bereavement KPIs." The director, a man of few words with gentle eyes, simply nodded and listened, continuing his slow, methodical preparations.
Their first difficult case together was the funeral of a young child. The intern tried to stay detached, focusing on the technical side of the preparation. He used professional jargon to keep the emotional reality at a distance.
The day of the service arrived, and the funeral home filled with overwhelming grief. The intern was tasked with coordinating the visitation. As the grieving parents approached the small casket, the reality of the situation finally pierced his carefully constructed professional veneer. His breath caught in his throat. The academic theories vanished.
Overwhelmed by a sudden panic attack, he dropped his notes and fled to the prep room in the back, leaning against the wall and shaking.
The older director found him a minute later. He didn't yell or tell him to get back to work. He just stood there until the intern’s breathing slowed down.
"I forgot everything," the intern whispered, his voice shaking. "I can't do this. I don't know what the next step is."
"It never gets easy, son," the director said softly, his voice a calm anchor. "And it shouldn’t. If you don't feel this, you shouldn't be doing this work."
The intern managed a shaky breath, looking up. "But I... I forgot everything. I can’t do this. I don't know what to do."
The director looked him in the eye "Forget the books right now," the director said gently. "Forget the processes. Those people in there? They don't need a technician. They need us to be steady when they can't be. Right now, your job is to show up. It's not about being perfect. It's about being present and serving them. We are here to help them carry what they cannot bear alone."
The intern realized his arrogance had been a shield. He took a deep breath, straightened his jacket, and followed the director back into the chapel. He didn't try to "manage" the situation anymore; he just stayed close and helped the family, finally understanding what the profession was actually about.
