I don’t know if any of you have ever had to tread water for an extended period of time, but  I did when I was getting my life saving certification at Girl Scout Camp Hazelwood, approximately a hundred years ago.  With no life jacket, I was told to swim out into the lake, stop an appropriate distance from the shore, and suspend myself in the murky depths for 30 minutes.  At least I think it was 30 minutes, although when I finished it seemed like it had been a whole lot longer.

By the time the test was over (and it included much more than 30 minutes of swimming in place), I was physically and mentally drained.  The water front director hadn’t made it easy—and she was the one I had to “rescue”.  Honestly, there was a certain amount of satisfaction when I dug into the pressure point in her arm pit as she fought against my efforts to save her life.

These days, I feel like I’m treading water, and I’m pretty sure most of those in the medical profession and funeral service feel the same way.  It’s like we aren’t making any progress—just trying desperately to keep our heads above water.  Our board met on Friday night to hash out how we would approach services as the dreaded virus began to spread.  We came up with what we thought might be a fairly decent plan, one that would protect those who were concerned but would still allow for visitations and services . . . to some extent.  So we wrote it up and made it all official and put it on our Facebook page . . . and the next morning the Governor issued Executive Order 17—and everything we had worked so diligently to pull together rapidly unraveled.  We deleted our Facebook post and went back to the drawing board—or cell phones in this instance.

We spent Sunday morning texting back and forth, trying to decide what this meant for us as funeral directors.  The news media said the Order was effective at midnight March 23 ^rd .  Was that Sunday or Monday?  March 23 ^rd was bookended by a midnight on each side of the 24 hour clock, so we had to hunt down the actual Order for clarification.   Social gatherings were limited to ten people—except the order said avoid social gatherings of ten or more.  Did that mean we were limited to nine?  Did that include the minister?  What about the funeral staff . . . and the pallbearers . . . and any musicians . . . and active military or veterans providing military honors?  Did the limit only apply for services at the funeral home?  What if a church was willing to allow a family to use their facility and violate the mandated number?  What if the family wanted a graveside service?  That’s out in the open.  Under the bright blue sky (or more likely thunder clouds and rain).  Was that an acceptable space for more than ten to gather?  Our list of questions bordered on endless, and we weren’t alone.

On Monday the Executive Director of the Tennessee State Board of Funeral Directors and Embalmers issued a statement that answered many of our questions.  It gave us direction—and definite boundaries we should not be trying to cross.  As families filtered in we had to tell them business as usual was no longer that.  They would be very limited in who could attend whatever they chose to have.  One granddaughter cried.  One family somewhat jokingly started looking for loopholes.  One family had a visitation scheduled for Sunday night and a service on Monday.  When they learned that only ten of them would be allowed to return the following day, they changed course in mid-stream.  The funeral was held at 7:00 Sunday evening.

We’re trying through every possible means to offer families as many opportunities to honor their loved ones as we can manage without violating the spirit and the letter of the Order.  That Order carries the same weight as law, not to mention failure to abide by its guidelines puts everyone at risk of, quite frankly, suffering and death.  You can tell me all day long that the majority of the people who contract COVID-19 will recover.  And you would be right.  You just can’t tell me which ones will and which ones won’t.  And any preventable death that occurs is one too many.

Currently we are limiting attendance at services, no matter the location, to nine people and the speaker or minister.  If a member of the family fills that role, then ten family members can be present.  We’re letting families know we will gladly assist them with a public memorial service at a later, safer date, at no additional charge to them.  We will arrange for visitations where family members can rotate in and out so there are never more than ten of them in the building at any given time, so each and every one of them has a few minutes to say their final good-byes.  Presently our Savannah location is ready to begin live-streaming funeral services if those services are held in our chapel.  In theory the equipment and the process are working great.  We don’t know about in practice and won’t until we have the opportunity to do a reality check.  Our other locations are working diligently to follow suit as quickly as possible.

If you check our website in the coming days, you’ll see a new program called Hugs from Home.  That program will give those who aren’t allowed to attend the opportunity to express their condolences in a meaningful way.  The messages sent through our website will be printed and attached to helium-filled balloons which will be weighted and placed at the service location.  When the family arrives, they will see these representations of their friends and extended family who could not come but are with them in spirit and love.

It goes against everything we believe to deny families the opportunity to honor their loved ones and share their grief.  It goes against everything we believe to deny them the public support that a visitation and funeral service offer.  But as should always be the case, what benefits the majority outweighs what benefits a few.  If we are diligent, if we make the personal sacrifices now on all fronts, perhaps lives will be saved.  And who knows?  One of those lives might be yours . . . or someone you love.

About the author:  Lisa Shackelford Thomas is a fourth generation member of a family that’s been in funeral service since 1926.  She has been employed at Shackelford Funeral Directors in Savannah, Tennessee for over 40 years and currently serves as the manager there.  Any opinions expressed here are hers and hers alone, and may or may not reflect the opinions of other Shackelford family members or staff.

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