Why are people scared of death? Are they afraid of the potential pain it may bring? Do they think they will miss their family and friends? Do they have more they want to accomplish, and fear leaving their lives “unfinished”? Do they tremble at the thought of what lies beyond the grave? Or perhaps they believe that nothing lies waiting for them after death?

Whatever the reason, death makes most people uncomfortable, to the point where people would rather have “celebrations of life” without a physical body even present, as opposed to funerals, which force them to confront mortality. It’s a source of anxiety for nearly everyone, and it’s understandable that most of us try to avoid it whenever we can.

Most of us…I have always been an opportunist, and try to say yes to as many new experiences as possible. So when the opportunity to work with a medical examiner and assist with autopsies arose during my senior year of college, I took it. And I wasn’t prepared for it.

I truly saw the worst our fallen world has to offer.

During my tenure with the medical examiner, I participated in approximately 600 autopsies. I read through each person’s final moments. I saw each lifeless body. I knew every detail. It was part of my job. With each case, I bore witness to each individuals struggles. I observed depression, anxiety, abuse, suicide, murder, and the most untimely deaths.

It was difficult. There were a lot of emotions I needed to process, but I bottled them up. I concealed it all with humor and lied to myself about how beneficial the experience would be for my education. It was the easiest way to cope. But as time passed, I felt more empty and anxious than anything.

I accumulated irrational fears. Telling someone goodbye before getting in my car felt like the last time I would see them. A hint of anger from anyone mutated into violence within my minds eye. Each missed telephone call meant someone was gone. They remained dead in my mind until they proved otherwise.

It was at this point I reached out to a spiritual father. I needed to feel something other than a distrust for everything around me. In talking with him, we came up with a few solutions. He first asked me to pray for all those who came into the morgue, along with their grieving families. I was surprised that I hadn’t been doing so sooner. Second, he asked me if I was okay with weeping openly at my job. While I wouldn’t be in any other circumstance, I was garbed up in the morgue. Goggles and a mask obscured my face to the point where no one would be able to tell. When I told him this, he strongly encouraged me to cry if I felt the need to.

And it helped a great deal. Prayer and an outpouring of compassion in the form of weeping did wonders for my soul and spiritual life. It allowed me to feel closer to those who suffered in death and those who were suffering through the loss of their loved one. We are not often able to show such love to strangers, but my time in the morgue gave me that opportunity.