Can't Wait to Get to Heaven

A Sad Business

11:48 AM

Down at the funeral parlor, after the call from Tot, Neva stood up and walked into the back office and pulled out the “Decedent, Elner Shimfissle” file and then walked around the corner to where her husband, Arvis, was applying the finishing touches on the hairpiece for Ernest Koonitz, a recent arrival. She stuck her head in. “Hon, Tot just called. Elner Shimfissle is probably coming in late tonight or first thing in the morning, stung to death by wasps.”

He looked up. “Huh. Two decedents within twenty-four hours. Not bad for April.”

It was true, considering April was always their slow month, but Neva hated it when Arvis said things like that. Granted they were in the funeral business, but she had a heart. Lately it seemed all he cared about was numbers. If a plague hit town and took out a hundred people, he would probably dance a jig. She was aware that every passing meant money in their pocket; still, she hated to see the last of the old-timers leaving, but the Warrens were her regulars, and it was a job that needed to be done. They had handled all their decedents in the past, both Norma’s and Macky’s parents, various aunts and uncles, and an occasional cousin here and there. Neva knew she should not play favorites, but she couldn’t help but have a soft spot for them. The entire family had been loyal to them throughout the years, and Neva always took special care with their decedents, treated them as she would one of her own.

Besides just plain liking them, she appreciated their business. Times had changed. Their business was no longer the only game in town; Costco out on the interstate was now selling coffins at a cut rate, and they had lost an awful lot of their customers when they moved into the building where the catfish restaurant used to be. A lot of people said that they did not feel comfortable viewing the body of their loved ones where they used to eat catfish and fries, and had switched over to the new mortuary in town. The new people did a nice job and they were fine, she supposed, for fast and impersonal services. She was not one to badmouth the competition, but theirs was a longtime local family-run full-service business and offered the follow-through that was so important. She and Arvis were there to serve their customers from the first pickup, on through internment. They prepared the body, arranged the viewing, ordered the flowers, provided free sign-in books, had a minister, a soprano, and an organist on twenty-four-hour call. They offered a His and Her two-for-one burial package and had a large selection of caskets and cremation urns at reasonable prices. They supplied a 10 percent discount on extra rooms at the local Days Inn for out-of-town relatives and friends, including a free continental breakfast on the day of the funeral and complimentary wine and cheese in the lobby that afternoon. They even arranged transportation to and from the cemetery and helped order and measure and place the headstones when they arrived. “What more could you want in a funeral package?” she wondered. Other than not having your loved one die in the first place, of course. Short of that, they did everything that was possible to have done. In fact, their ad in the telephone book, which she had spent weeks creating, reflected her sentiments exactly.

THE REST ASSURED FUNERAL HOME

Come to us in your time of need.

And be rest assured of receiving

The very best in funeral care

Because we care about you.

The phone in the mortuary office rang again. This time it was Merle’s wife, Verbena Wheeler, calling from the cleaners two blocks away.

“Neva, did you hear?”

“Yes, Tot just called. I just pulled her file.”

“Isn’t it horrible?”

“Terrible.”

“She was the sweetest thing.”

“She was.”

“It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Ruby said she probably never knew what hit her.”

“That’s what Tot told me. At least she didn’t suffer.”

“That’s right.”

“We can be thankful for that at least.”

“Yes we can.”

“Anyhow, I thought I’d go ahead and get my flower order in early and beat the rush.”

“That’s probably a good idea.” Neva reached over for her floral order pad. “What do you want to send?”

“The usual, I guess.”

Neva wrote down “One medium azalea plant in ceramic pot.”

Verbena always sent a plant rather than flowers. She felt it could work at the viewing and again at the funeral, or be planted at the grave later on. She liked to give people options, like starch or no starch, or hangers or boxed.

“Same message?” asked Neva. “‘With our deepest sympathy, Merle and Verbena’?”

“Yes, might as well, I can never think of anything else to say other than that, can you?”

“No, that says it all.”

“I know Norma is sure going to miss her.”

“You know she will.”

“No matter how old they are when they go, or what shape they’re in, you always miss them. I remember how it was for me when we lost Momma Ditty, and then poor old Daddy Ditty in the same year.”

“Yes.”

“And then Aunt Dottie Ditty went the year after that, do you remember?”

“I do,” Neva said.

“We lost all three Dittys in less than two years, and I don’t think there is a day that goes by that I don’t miss them.”

“I’m sure.”

“When is the viewing?”

“I don’t know. Norma hasn’t called us yet, I don’t know when the body will be released. It could be as early as tonight or it could be tomorrow.”

Verbena sighed. “Well, I’ll see you over there…I just hate to have to get out that old funeral dress again, but that’s life, isn’t it?”

Neva hung up. She certainly remembered Verbena Wheeler’s aunt Dottie Ditty. How could she not? Dottie Ditty had been their most difficult decedent, and she and Arvis were still living with the consequences to this day. Aunt Dottie Ditty had weighed in at 328 pounds at the time of death, and had presented a challenge right from the get-go. Aside from having to special order a casket large enough, during pickup Arvis had suffered a ruptured hernia, plus a slipped disk in his lower back that was still giving him trouble. Although the general public might not be aware of it, the funeral business has its share of injuries, just like any other line of work that requires heavy lifting.

Neva walked over and opened the Elner Shimfissle file and read that at one time the “Lily of the Valley” style casket had been ordered, but had been canceled in 1987 when Elner had changed her mind about burial and had suddenly switched to cremation. Neva cringed. Not because they’d lost a casket sale, but she hated having to deal with the uproar cremation caused, particularly among the older Baptists and Methodists. They became extremely upset, almost unruly, when they were told that there was no body to view. A few had even demanded that the money for the flowers they had sent be returned. She remembered now that at the time, Elner had said she hadn’t switched to cremation to save money, she just loved the idea of disappearing in a flash of hot white light. She had said it seemed like a lot more fun than being embalmed.

Neva read on just to refresh her memory about the other details.

Service: MethodistRev. William Jenkins presidingHymn to be sung: “Can’t Wait to Get to Heaven”Interlude: “Just Over the Stars”

Since she was the soprano and also the organist on twenty-four-hour call, Neva figured she’d better go into the chapel and brush up on the numbers. They didn’t get much call for the old gospel tunes anymore. People’s taste in funeral music had changed drastically over the years. Just last month, there had been a request for “Fly Me to the Moon.” Neva got up and walked across the hall through the slumber room to the chapel and sat down at the small organ. She flipped through her stack of sheet music until she found her copy of “Can’t Wait to Get to Heaven,” a hymn that had been written and made famous by Minnie Oatman and the Oatman Family Gospel Singers, whose picture appeared on the cover of the sheet music. Neva removed all her rings, wiggled her fingers, turned the organ on, hit the first three chords, and started singing softly in a thin little reedy voice.

Can’t wait to get to HeavenOh I’ll be so happy thereWhen I walk down that ivory hallAnd run up those crystal stairs.

Oh I’ll know Him when I see HimI’d know Him anywhere.Then all my struggles will be liftedWhen I reach that kingdom in the air.

Can’t wait to shout hallelujah!No more earthly burdens will I bear’Cause when I see the Heavenly throne,I know…Yes I knowHe’ll be waiting for me there!

When she finished, Neva thought, “Nice lyrics, and very fitting.” She guessed if anybody had a shot at getting to heaven, it would have to be Elner Shimfissle. The woman had been such a source of inspiration for the whole town, always had a smile on her face. Neva felt her eyes misting up, and reached for a Kleenex. You’d think that with all the years of experience in the funeral business, she would have become immune to feeling bereft, but she hadn’t. Some passings were easier than others, of course, but as their ad stated, she cared deeply about all her customers, the living and the deceased.