What working with the dead taught me about life
Kate Marshall had no idea when she started working in a mortuary that it would give her a whole new perspective on how to live her life
WHEN Kate Marshall tells people what she does for a living, it’s often met with surprise, if not abject horror. As a medical examiner’s officer in a mortuary, Kate knows that her job isn’t for everyone.
“They say, ‘I could never do that’, and ask if we keep the dead in fridges, or on metal tables like they do on television,” she said.
Kate, 50, who has four grown-up children, applied for a job at the mortuary in 2018, after many years working in mental health.
“I’d had experience with trauma and extreme situations from my job as a support worker. I moved to a job in the coroner’s office, before joining the mortuary team,” she said.
“It’s turned out to be my dream job – like what I was always meant to do.”
On a day-to-day basis, the mortuary team facilitates viewings for people to see their loved ones. Kate supports families through grief, discusses causes of death and completes legal documentation.
“We have a family room with a little hospital bed for the deceased. We then sit with the families and allow them to talk,” said Kate.
“This can be really nice, especially with an older person because it brings to life their history and what they were like.”
Laughter, Kate added, is an essential part of the job.
“I think you have to have a dark sense of humour to do this job. Laughter is a survival technique,” she said.
There have certainly been some unusual moments in the mortuary.
There was the grieving widower who wanted his deceased girlfriend dressed in lacy underwear.
“We didn’t know what to do when he showed us the pants,” laughed Kate. “We passed it on to the funeral director to deal with.”
And she’ll never forget the woman who came in and punched her cheating husband.
“She found out after he died that he had this whole other life – even another child. So she came in and hit him,” said Kate. “For her, that was a little moment of closure. She then sat holding his hand.”
It can be hard not to get emotionally
involved, said Kate, who lives in Cheshire with her hotel-worker husband Paul, 47.
“For me, the hardest cases are the ones that could be me,” she said. “If there is a deceased mum who is my age and I’m talking to her children, who are around the same age as mine, it can be difficult.
“It’s also hard to recognise that there’s only so much you can do for someone in their grief, you can’t take that pain away.”
Respect and care for the dead are the two biggest aims of the team. “We let people know we care about their loved ones,” added Kate.
“I’ve relayed messages to people who’ve passed on, telling them they’re loved. I’ve covered them in blankets and held their hands.
“We do what we can to help families in their loss.”
When Covid struck in early 2020, it made the job much harder.
“The pandemic was a horrific time,” said Kate. “People were going into hospital for routine things and not coming out.
“They had to say goodbye over
Facetime or not at all.” Temporary fridges had to be installed to cope with the sheer volume of deaths.
“Nobody stopped dying of other things, Covid happened on top of it all. So the numbers spiralled.”
When the mortuary was forced to close to visitors, Kate’s team had to turn families away at the door.
“Sometimes they’d be incorrectly told they could see their loved ones. It was awful,” she said.
Kate remembers one woman in particular.
“She went abroad to care for her mum in France, who later died of Covid. While she was away, her husband – who was perfectly healthy when she left – also died of Covid,” she said. “She couldn’t see him and we had to organise a cremation while she was still in France, with no service. It was a very scary time.”
Kate said her time working with the dead has taught her a great deal about life and how to live it.
“I’ve been party to so many conversations that have given me perspective,” she added.
“There were the siblings angry at a parent who hadn’t invited them for Sunday dinner – still furious after the parent’s death.
“Then there was the woman I assumed had been happily married for many years, but who revealed she simply couldn’t pluck up the courage to leave the relationship.
“As a result, I’ve learned to let go of things more easily than I used to.
“Those day-to-day stresses don’t feature any more.”
While she says she’s hyper aware of her own mortality, she doesn’t fear dying. “I’ve seen every scenario imaginable, from people dying in car accidents on the way home from shopping, to those gardening one minute and being looked after by me the next,” said Kate.
“Sometimes I’ll be driving home and think, ‘Am I going to make it?’ But whether it’s tomorrow or – hopefully – in 50 years, I’m not scared of death.” Her one concern is for her children. “I hope I still have plenty of time with my kids,” she said.
“And when I go, I want them to carry on and keep smiling.
“I had them so they would live a wonderful life – and I tell them all the time that’s what I want them to do when I’m gone.”
Kate hopes by lifting the lid on her life in the mortuary, it will help to open up the conversation surrounding death.
“It’s seen as a morbid and taboo topic but it happens to everyone,” she said.
“Of course, nobody is going to be happy they’ll never see a loved one again but I truly believe those people are still with you, it’s just the packaging that isn’t.
“Talking about what someone wants when they die, and then talking about them after they’re gone, is a much more fitting tribute to them than silence.”
● Sorry For Your Loss: What Working With the Dead Taught Me About Life by Kate Marshall (£8.99, Mardle Books) is out now.