Handsome Charcoal Coffins: Unexpected Funeral Planning

Here we were, planning. Planning for something we didn’t think we could. Planning for something we didn’t anticipate or write into our little square planner boxes or google calendar. We had met with the pastor, we had received our duties and without us it wouldn’t happen so what choice did we have? This was happening whether we prayed, whether we asked God to bring him back.

We gathered our stories, with the goal in sight that we had to capture his life within 4 days on a piece of trifold paper. The moments talking about Aussie around our kitchen table wouldn’t end forever, but this chapter of trying to tie up the loose ends was coming near. We scoured pictures that we had the strength to consume at that moment, but now months later, not able to. We reviewed his grades, his yearly class pictures, and his hand-written notes to us. We ate popcorn and oranges because small handfuls is all we could digest. We even laughed, because the reminiscence of his quick giggle and shrug couldn’t hold us back.

Then we had to go to the funeral home. People may talk about what goes into the planning of a funeral, but an unexpected loss is met of course with unexpectedness. I told you we were close, so it’s no surprise that as we gathered at the funeral home we all waited in the small entryway until together we could walk the 4 steps up and around the corner to that cold meeting space. Chilled and tired, I don’t think any one of us took our coats off in that Minnesota March.

“I am sorry for your loss”. I know she truly meant that as she looked at my mom first. Small towns can still provide so much empathy for familiar smiles. But then business is business. How many death certificates would you like? After the first, it will cost a price. What type of ceremony do you want to have? Do you want a prayer service? If so, who do you want to be able to attend? What about the funeral? What about an open or closed casket? Here is our thank you card options – you can get a discount after the first box.” I am not saying at all that our point of contact at the funeral home was cold; she was actually amazing and provided us a sense of peace. But what I disliked most was the structuredness with how we were supposed to handle it. As I have stated, I thrive off of structure….but in this moment I couldn’t understand how structure played any part in something that wasn’t planned. If it wasn’t planned, it had no place in my structure.

I clutched a Kleenex in one hand and the warm hand of my sisters in the other. We stared blankly and sadly at one another across the table as we searched each other’s faces for answers to all of the questions we had never thought of before. We waited for the first brave one of us to take initiative and provide an answer to each of these. We would like a few death certificates, we wanted a closed casket because Aussie was so private, we wanted a private family prayer service, we knew it would be a large funeral so yes, we would like the largest box of thank you cards we could purchase. I couldn’t believe we had survived the days since he left us, but somehow we were selecting pallbearers and a funeral date.

The last thing we needed to do that day was choose a coffin. Another set of old stairs led to a musky smelling room on the second floor of the funeral home. I looked back and took my husband’s hand so I wouldn’t fall. This was probably the hardest thing we were about to do yet. Wood coffins, steel coffins, examples of embroidered linings, and options for personalized designs filled that crowded room. We all walked silently around the small circle of coffins, taking less than 10 minutes to examine each one. We met at the charcoal colored coffin. My mom said, “This is Austin. It is handsome and matches his style perfectly.” Not one of us had a differing opinion, it was true. This would be the coffin my brother would be buried in and it felt perfect. What I thought would be the hardest choice felt like the easiest so far. We knew Austin was not ever going to be in that coffin and it would only be his body’s resting place, but somehow that handsome charcoal coffin felt like the only choice we were give in the funeral home that day that represented him perfectly.

The details that go into planning a funeral might seem like a trivial thing given the scope of tragedy, but to us and many others I know they are not. The choices we make to honor and represent a loved one’s life and character are the only things we have control over in those moments. They were of utmost importance to us and even though we had to make decisions quickly, we made every one of them as if Austin was sitting at that table with us. There is a lot of room for improvement when it comes to resources the funeral home can provide. The obituary template for an 80 year old farmer who died of natural causes and lived a long, happy life just simply did not seem fitting for a 37 year old brother/son/husband/daddy who died by suicide and had so much yet to give this world. The aged pictures on the thank you cards of eagles, tractors in the field, or flowers left us only with the last option of a cross. And as you make hard decisions, a cost is written down behind each one. My parents made decisions with certainty and led our family through that day, and the cost behind each choice did not matter to them. Later we would find out how God would provide almost the exact amount needed to cover every detail of what we had planned.

It was in those moments that day where I knew that this blog would be where I would land. As hard as I knew it would be to recount these memories, I also knew it was my faith mission to share our grief journey and God was preparing me for this every step of the way. He is so cool, and as I share I hope you can get a sense of how detailed and intricate He is. I didn’t want this to be His plan for me, but I knew at that moment that my passion to live a life of creativity would be used in someway. And just as Austin was my cheerleader in life, he is now once again the reason I am writing and dreaming of creations to share with others. Wow, he is still motivating and cheering me on. His light has never dulled, even as his body rests in that handsome charcoal coffin.