Behind The Profession: The Mental Heath Toll of Funeral Work

What happens when the people who stand beside grief every day are expected to carry it quietly?

In this episode, Jennifer Muldowney sits down with Dwight Thompson, a former funeral director turned therapist, for a deeply honest conversation about the emotional toll of working in death care. Having lived both roles, Dwight speaks with real understanding about what funeral professionals hold day after day, the sorrow they witness, the stories they carry, and the parts of themselves they often have to set aside just to keep going.

Together, they talk about how little support exists for the mental health of people in funeral service, and how often their pain goes unseen. They explore the silence, the stigma, and the weight of doing work that asks so much from the heart while giving so little room to process it. This episode also shines a light on the importance of community, shared understanding, and spaces like Funeral Professional Peer Support where people can finally feel less alone.

Tune in for a moving conversation about grief, compassion, and what it means to care for others when no one has taught you how to care for yourself.

Key Topics:

- The hidden mental health toll of funeral work

- Why funeral professionals often suffer in silence

- The lack of real support for people in death care

- How stigma keeps funeral directors in the shadows

- The need for research, resources, and peer support in funeral service

Quotes from the episode:

“If we would just face the fact that we are dying, we live better and we love more.”

— Jennifer Muldowney

“No one in these mental health spaces are talking about funeral directors. And that to me is alarming."

— Dwight Thompson

Timestamps:

[01:43] Funeral Professionals Are Human Too and why people in death care carry their own grief as well

[03:18] Dwight’s Full Circle Journey from funeral directing and embalming into psychotherapy

[06:18] “That’s Me” and the moment Dwight saw his own story in other funeral directors’ mental health struggles

[06:49] A $274 Paycheck and a Therapist Who Didn’t Understand the reality of seeking help without being understood

[08:37] An Alarming Gap in Training and why funeral directors are still missing from mental health education

[09:36] First Responders vs Funeral Directors and why the comparison does not fully fit

[12:13] Borrowed Solutions and Missing Research in funeral directors’ mental health care

[14:31] The Dark Corner of Careers and why funeral service remains overlooked and misunderstood

[17:58] Death Care as Dirty Work and the stigma attached to working around death

[19:38] Why Are We Still So Death Denying and what that says about society’s discomfort with mortality

[21:20] The Healing Power of Peer Support and why shared experience matters so much

[23:26] A Branding Problem and why valuable support can still go unnoticed

[27:28] Business Culture and Silence in the funeral sector and how all three affect mental health support

[33:02] The System Cannot Fix Itself and why outside expertise may be needed

[36:26] What Comes Next and the wider conversations still needed in funeral service

Connect with Dwight Thompson at:

Website: https://www.funeralpeersupport.ca/

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/dwight-thompson-msw-rsw-rmft-s-31160621a/

Email: dwight@ottawapsychotherapyservices.ca

Connect with Jennifer Muldowney (The Glam Reaper) on socials at:

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Facebook Page -   / @muldowneymemorials  

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Painting Through Pet Loss: Why I Picked Up a Brush for Roxy and Poppy

Grief shows up in strange ways. One minute you’re fine, the next you’re crying in the pet aisle because you saw their favorite treats. Or scrolling through Etsy for hours, trying to find the perfect portrait that captures the sparkle of your beloved furry friend.

That’s exactly what I was doing in 2024 looking for something to honor Roxy and Poppy. I wanted a piece of art for my new home. But the more I searched, the more I realized nothing felt like them or like me with them. OR they were too expensive for my budget. And then I got an idea….

What if I painted it myself?

I haven’t really painted in years, at least not seriously. But the thought of creating something for them with my own hands felt…. Meaningful. Personal. A little terrifying of course and also I wasn’t sure Id have the skills anymore. I used to draw horses and Disney characters, rarely humans and had never tried dogs. I didn’t want to do them a disservice so I had another idea…..how about paint by numbers?! Now don’t laugh because it does sound childish but when I sent off the photo I curated of the two of them (their lives didn’t cross over each others) and received the piece back, I nearly died at the intricacy of all the colors and numbers – tiiiiiiny spots had numbers in it.

I got to work.

Every weekend I did a few more numbers until just this past Christmas I was able to finish it and I am so pleased with the results. I recorded a time lapse most of the times I painted. It was SO cathartic and the end result was as accurate the photo as it could be, I definitely wouldn’t have been able to accomplish the same result freehand. I was thrilled.

Why Art Feels Like the Right Path

I’ve read a lot about art therapy over the years. As someone who lives and works in the world of grief, I know how powerful creativity can be as a form of expression. Art helps bypass the analytical mind and go straight to the heart. It doesn’t require answers or solutions. Just a willingness to feel and explore. The paint by numbers situation allowed the controlling perfectionist in me to create something I could be proud of (and want to display) and the creativity of simply putting brush to canvas was so relaxing and meditative.

The result? I love it. I wanted to paint Roxy and Poppy not just how they looked, but how they felt. Their energy. Their quirks. Their place in my life and heart. The photos I chose of them and blended and the chosen background, all reflect me and them and I couldn’t be happier.

Not an Artist? Doesn’t Matter.

You don’t have to be anyway good at art to do this. This isn’t about creating a gallery-worthy piece, its just for me and because the hard work has been done for you, you just have to show up. It’s about sitting with grief in a way that’s active, but gentle, meditative and deeply connected. I turned on some Disney classics – don’t ask me why, this just felt right and I cried and I concentrated. A weird tribute maybe but a slow, sacred, splattered kind of love letter it became.

If You’re Grieving A Furry One Too...

Maybe you're not ready to paint. Maybe your creative style looks like journaling, or building a photo collage, or writing a poem. That’s beautiful too. There’s no “right” way to remember a pet. There’s just your way.

But if the idea of picking up a brush or pen or piece of clay whispers something to you, I encourage you to follow it. You don’t have to show anyone. You don’t have to be “good.” You just have to start. I have learned a lot recently about the act of starting over seeking perfection.

And if you do start, know that you’re not alone. I’m over here, surrounded by tissues staring at my painting where I tried to capture two of the cutest and sweetest souls, I’ve ever known Roxy and Poppy.

They were worth every brushstroke. And so is your baby.

Keening & The Craic - Season Six is off!

What if the secret to resilience is knowing how to carry both a "guttural scream" and a "good laugh" in the same room?

In this season six premiere, Jennifer Muldowney welcomes the viral sensation and her dear friend, Vivienne Sayers, to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day in the most authentic way possible, by exploring the bittersweet soul of Ireland. From the red carpets of the Oscars to the quiet, sacred traditions of the Irish wake, they dive into why Irish culture has always been a masterclass in balancing joy with deep, generational grief.

They discuss the power of visceral storytelling in films like Hamnet, the hilarious reality of being an Irish immigrant in New York (including a mortifying run-in with Ed Sheeran), and why the "Irish funeral" is currently in a chrysalis stage. The conversation challenges the drinking stereotypes of St. Patrick’s Day, urging a return to a broader narrative of language, community, and the ancient art of "keening"—reminding us that while we are a people who know how to complain, we are also a people who never let someone grieve alone.

Tune in for a celebration of the "Yin and Yang" of the Emerald Isle: the heart that smiles, the soul that cries, and the community that holds it all together.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f9DfyF6vBWw

Key Topics:

-The Dual Soul: Navigating the "Tear and the Smile" in Irish culture.

-Keening & The Craic: Understanding the ancient tradition of professional mourners and the "social lubricant" of the Irish wake.

-The Modern Irish Identity: Moving beyond green beer and drinking stereotypes to reclaim language and heritage.

-Generational Trauma vs. Wealth: How history has shaped the way the Irish process loss.

-The Funeral "Wake 2.0": Why a good funeral—and a good life—requires community, connection, and a perfect ham sandwich.

Quotes from the episode:

"There’s room for everyone at the table, no matter what industry... even if you're bloody identical twins, they still create their own corners of the world for themselves."

— Jennifer Muldowney

"America has generational wealth; Ireland has generational trauma. And we totally laugh about it, but... we are looking to broaden the Irish narrative of who we are as people."

— Vivienne Sayers

Why Pet Loss Hurts So Much—and Why We Need to Talk About It

 

Video is from Pet Loss Panel Discussion held in Greenwood Cemetery, New York March 2025.

Have you ever lost your best friend in the whole world? The one you told all your deepest secrets to? That’s what it felt like when I lost my dogs, Poppy and Roxy. Their deaths shook me to my core and led me down a path I never expected—one that ended up shaping my entire life and career.

As someone who has worked in the funeral profession for years, I thought I understood grief. But losing Poppy and then Roxy taught me something different. The pain of pet loss is real, raw, and lasting—and yet, it’s often dismissed or misunderstood. Society tends to marginalize grief that doesn’t fit neatly into the “norm,” and unfortunately, grief for pets is often seen as less important than grief for humans.

But the truth is, the loss of a pet can be just as devastating as losing a family member—because they are family. They’re with us through life’s ups and downs, offering unconditional love without judgment. When they’re gone, they leave a massive hole in our hearts and our routines.

Grief experts like Elisabeth Kübler-Ross and J. William Worden have offered frameworks like the Five Stages of Grief and the Four Tasks of Mourning—models that help us understand the emotional rollercoaster we go through after loss. These theories don’t just apply to human deaths. They resonate deeply when it comes to pet loss, too. The denial, the bargaining, the aching emptiness—they’re all there.

In my own case, the most difficult part was making the decision to put Roxy to sleep. I still replay that moment in my head—was she thanking me for easing her pain, or was she asking me why I was doing this to her? I’ll never know. That question still brings tears to my eyes years later.

After her death, a friend shared the story of the Rainbow Bridge with me. It gave me so much comfort that I named my pet memorial business after it—Rainbow Bridge Memorials. My hope was (and still is) to create a place where people can grieve their pets openly and find support, remembrance, and peace.

Through my TEDx talk and my work with grieving pet parents, I’ve learned that this kind of grief needs space, compassion, and community. Whether it’s a memorial service, a keepsake, or just a conversation where someone says “I see your pain”—it all matters.

So if you’re grieving a pet, please know this: your grief is valid. Your pain is real. And you are not alone. Let’s continue to challenge the idea that only certain kinds of grief deserve recognition. Love is love—and loss is loss. When we open up space for all kinds of grief, we build a kinder, more compassionate world.

A Life Sentence is a Death Sentence—Just Slower

When we think of the death penalty, we often picture courtrooms, last meals (John Coffey from The Green Mile anyone??💔) and final words before execution. But what if I told you that another form of execution exists—one that plays out over decades, behind cold prison walls, stripping people of hope and any chance at redemption? That’s exactly what life imprisonment without parole does. It may not involve a lethal injection, but it’s a death sentence all the same—just in slow motion and I just recently delved into it thanks to reading an article a guest on Season 5 of my podcast wrote and interviewed yet another guest who works for the Humane Prison Hospice Project. Fascinating conversation!

The U.S. Loves a Life Sentence

The United States has one of the highest incarceration rates in the world, and the number of people serving life sentences is staggering. Right now, 1 in 7 U.S. prisoners (over 203,000 people) are serving life sentences in prison, more than the country's entire prison population in 1970. Of the lifers, 30% are at least 55 years old. That’s an entire population of people who will never know freedom again, many of whom were handed these sentences not because they are beyond redemption but because the system is designed to punish rather than rehabilitate. According to my conversation with Laura from the Humane Prison Hospice Project who guestimated that nearly 90% of incarcerated women are in prison because they were quite literally back into a corner. They tried to run away, tried to get restraining orders, tried to get help, tried to report the domestic abuse but nothing else worked. What do you do when survival mode becomes kill or be killed?

And let’s be honest—this system doesn’t impact everyone equally. Individuals of colour are disproportionately hit with the harshest sentences, including life without parole, even for crimes that wouldn’t get the same punishment if the defendant were white. When we talk about mass incarceration, we have to talk about racial bias, systemic injustice, and the deep flaws baked into the so-called justice system.

Prison as a “Slow Death”

What does it mean to live without hope? Many people assume that life in prison is a better alternative to the death penalty because, well, at least they’re alive, right? But what kind of life is it when you wake up every day knowing that you will never step outside those walls, rebuild, or get a second chance?

Many inmates serving life sentences suffer from extreme mental deterioration—depression, hopelessness, and even suicide are rampant. Their bodies might be alive, but their futures have been permanently erased. That’s not justice. That’s a prolonged execution.

The Price Tag of Life Sentences

Beyond the human cost, there’s also the financial burden. Keeping someone incarcerated for decades costs taxpayers a fortune. We’re talking about millions of dollars that could be spent on rehabilitation, mental health programs, and actual solutions to crime—things that reduce recidivism instead of just locking people away forever. Countries like Norway focus on rehabilitation over punishment, and surprise, surprise—they have lower crime rates and fewer repeat offenders. Only 20% of Norway’s formerly incarcerated population commit another crime within two years of release. 

What’s the Alternative?

Should we really believe that a person is incapable of change just because of what they did at one moment in their lives? The reality is, that people evolve and make mistakes. They grow, they learn, they change. If we don’t at least provide the possibility of redemption, what does that say about us as a society? Also, see my last post on the Netflix Show Adolescence as often uneducated, naive, young or misinformed humans experience something traumatic or triggering and it causes them to act unlawfully. Should they get the death penalty?

Justice should be about more than just punishment—it should be about transformation. We have to ask ourselves: Do we really believe in second chances, or do we just like the idea of them? Because right now, a life sentence isn’t a second chance. It seems to be a death sentence, with a much slower clock.

ADOLESCENCE: a masterpiece of narrative television with a spotlight on grief (WARNING SPOILERS)

WARNING SPOILERS

With a 100% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes, with critics describing it as "a masterpiece of narrative television and a stunning visual experience", Netflix's latest British drama, Adolescence, is a must-watch. It delves deep into the mind complexities of a minor, with themes of grief, shame, societal pressures, raising children and the dark sordid corners of online culture. The series begins with the relatively violent arrest of 13-year-old Jamie Miller, accused of murdering his classmate Katie Leonard. This harrowing event sets the stage for an exploration of the emotional and psychological turmoil experienced by all those involved. ​

At its core, Adolescence is a poignant portrayal of grief in its multifaceted forms. The Miller family grapples with the devastating reality of their son's actions, leading to a profound sense of loss of the son/brother they thought they knew and of the life they once had. Each grapples with their own shame, grief, denial and anger. 

Katie's friends and family, mourning her loss, embody the raw pain of bereavement that most of us are relatively familiar with - the loss of someone through death, albeit not a horrific one such as murder. The series goes much further and sheds light on the insidious nature of online radicalization, bullying, mental health and the systems that shape young people. Jamie's quick descent serves as a cautionary tale about the vulnerabilities of youth in the digital age. The narrative underscores how unchecked online influences can exacerbate feelings of isolation and anger, leading to devastating consequences. ​

One of the most striking aspects of Adolescence is its storytelling technique. Each episode is presented as a continuous single take, immersing viewers in the real-time unfolding of events. This method enhances the emotional intensity, allowing audiences to experience the characters' grief and confusion firsthand. ​The fact that Jamie was in denial of his actions when arrested and continuously approval-seeking shows just how altered his state of mind had become.

Stephen Graham's portrayal of Eddie Miller, Jamie's father, is particularly compelling, capturing the anguish of a parent confronting an unimaginable situation. ​The final scene, in the video below, is the most heartbreaking of the show in my opinion, with every facet of grief rearing its head - grief you couldn't protect your son, grief you didnt raise him right, grief he now faces prison, grief over lost innocence and youth, grief over the death of a young girl, grief for your family and the life you once shared, grief that nothing will be the same ever again. The pain is palpable in that scene.

Adolescence is more than just a crime drama; it's an incredible exploration of the varieties of grief, the challenges of modern adolescence and parenting, and the potential dangers lurking in schools and in the digital realm. This show will leave a mark on you, no doubt.

Bridget Jones + Grief: Love, Loss, and Moving Forward (With Wine, Of Course)

 Bridget Jones is back, but this time, she’s navigating a journey we never expected—grief. Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy takes the beloved character into uncharted territory, tackling widowhood, single parenthood, and the messy, unpredictable path of moving forward after loss.

For fans of the franchise, the loss of Mark Darcy (yes, THE Mark Darcy) is a gut punch. Colin Firth’s absence looms over the film, and like Bridget, we feel the weight of it. But true to Bridget Jones fashion, the story is not just about sadness—it’s about resilience, awkward missteps, and, of course, wine!

We’ve seen Bridget make bad decisions before—whether it was chasing after the wrong man, showing up in a Playboy bunny outfit, or attempting blue soup for dinner. But in Mad About the Boy, her struggles hit different.

Bridget isn’t just a fumbling, lovesick 30-something anymore. She’s a mother, a widow, and a woman trying to rebuild her life after losing the love of her life. This is a version of Bridget we’ve never seen before—one that carries grief in her eyes but still manages to find moments of joy, humor, and, yes, romance. The film beautifully captures how grief doesn’t always look like endless tears and dramatic breakdowns. Sometimes, it’s sending a flirty text and immediately regretting it. Sometimes, it’s laughing at the wrong moment, or pretending you’re fine when you’re absolutely not. It’s a mix of sadness, absurdity, and unexpected hope—all things that Bridget Jones does exceptionally well.

One of the most powerful aspects of this film is how it normalizes the messiness of grief. There’s no "right way" to grieve, and Bridget proves that whether it’s crying over old memories, taking a risk on a new love interest, or drowning sorrows in a bottle of wine, healing is never linear.

In a way, this film does for grief what Bridget Jones’s Diary did for being single in your 30s—it makes it okay to not have everything figured out. It reminds us that life, even after profound loss, still has room for laughter, love, and new beginnings. So many films about grief focus solely on the sadness, but Mad About the Boy gives us something more—permission to grieve in our own way, to find humor in the darkest moments, and to keep moving forward, even when we don’t know exactly where we’re going.

Bridget’s journey might be fictional, but her struggles feel real. Whether you've experienced loss yourself or simply love a story about resilience (and ridiculous dating mishaps), this film delivers a heartfelt, funny, and deeply relatable take on love, loss, and life after. So grab your tissues, pour yourself a glass of wine, and get ready to laugh, cry, and—most importantly—feel seen.