When we went to arrange the services for my dad there was a woman who helped us...

She was incredibly helpful and nice.
It wasn't a sad day for us, as a matter of fact it was the beginning of the celebration of my dad's life.

I apologized to her for laughing and joking-she told us that it was no problem, MOST of the time people fought and carried on while picking caskets, flowers and services...

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Six months later, at the funeral of my GF, I was on my way out when I bumped into the same gal that helped us arrange my dad's services.

It was pretty funny because the floral arrangements self destructed and there was flowers, foam and water everywhere.

We had a good chuckle out of the whole thing and I reminded her that everytime I wore that suit someone died.

I assured her that I was going home to burn it afterwards...

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The only thing that gave me the willies walking into the funeral home where we held my dad's service was the tell tale smell of formaldehyde...

I used to work near the morgue, so I was very familiar with it, it was strange how it put me at ease...