People often assume that those of us who work in cemeteries, mortuaries, and funeral services are somehow insulated from grief. Because we accompany families through loss every day, many believe we have learned how to separate ourselves from the emotions that come with death.
The truth is that we don't.
We are trained professionals. We know the procedures, the rituals, the traditions, and the practical steps that follow a death. We know how to guide families through some of the hardest moments they will ever face.
But nothing prepares you for the sudden loss of someone you worked beside, laughed with, and shared part of your life with every day.
When a coworker dies unexpectedly, the experience is different from many other losses. There is no time to prepare. No opportunity for final conversations. No chance to say goodbye.
One day they're sitting in the office next to you, attending meetings, sharing ideas, and planning for the future.
The next day, they're gone.
I remember the feeling of receiving that news. At first, it didn't seem real. There was a sense of disbelief, as though somehow there had been a mistake. The person who had been part of our daily routines, our conversations, and our mission was suddenly absent.
The workplace felt different immediately.
The empty office.
The vacant chair.
The unanswered extension.
The silence where there had once been laughter and boundless energy.
As funeral and cemetery professionals, we often help families navigate these realities. We speak about loss, healing, and remembrance. Yet when grief enters our own organization, we quickly discover that professional experience does not make us immune to sorrow.
In the days that followed, I found myself reflecting on how much of our lives are shared with our coworkers. We spend thousands of hours together. We solve problems together. We celebrate successes and endure challenges together. Over time, colleagues become more than coworkers. They become friends. They become part of our extended family.
The sudden loss of a coworker reminded me how fragile life truly is.
I remember walking through the cemetery during a quiet moment after learning of the loss. The grounds were as peaceful as they had always been. Families were visiting loved ones. Flowers moved gently in the breeze. Everything appeared unchanged.
And yet everything felt different.
As I stood there, I thought about the countless projects we had conducted together and the families we had helped. I thought about the conversations we had shared, the plans we had made, and the work we believed in. Most of all, I reflected on how often we assume there will be another meeting, another phone call, another opportunity to express our gratitude.
Sometimes there isn't.
That moment became deeply personal for me.
I realized that despite years spent helping others face loss, I was struggling with the same questions and emotions that so many families experience. There was sadness, certainly. But there was also gratitude. Gratitude for having known someone whose presence made a difference. Gratitude for the memories, the friendships, and the impact they had on so many lives.
Their death reminded me of something we often tell the families we serve:
A person's legacy is not measured by the day they leave us, but by the lives they touch while they are here.
In our profession, we witness grief every day. We understand that loss is not simply about death. It is about relationships, shared experiences, and the love and respect that remain after someone is gone.
When a coworker dies, we mourn not only the person but also the moments that will never happen. The conversations we won't have. The projects we won't complete together. The retirement celebration we expected to attend years from now.
Those losses are real.
And they hurt.
Yet even amid that grief, there is comfort in remembering that the work we do is built on relationships. Every act of kindness, every word of encouragement, every moment of service matters because people matter.
The sudden loss of a coworker taught me that no amount of training can remove the pain of losing someone we care about. We are funeral professionals, cemetery professionals, counselors, administrators, and leaders.
But before any of those things, we are human.
We grieve.
We remember.
We mourn.
And together, we honor those who helped shape our lives and our mission.
Because even in a profession surrounded by reminders of mortality, the loss of a friend and colleague is a powerful reminder that every day is a gift, every relationship is precious, and every life leaves a lasting imprint on the hearts of those left behind.
In Memory of Douglas S. Farruggia
(March 20, 1964 - July 2, 2026)
This reflection is dedicated to the memory of Douglas S. Farruggia, CEO of Catholic Cemeteries & Mortuaries. Doug was a respected leader, trusted colleague, and dear friend whose faith, compassion, and commitment to our mission touched countless lives.
As many members of our staff have shared, "Doug was more than our CEO. He cared about us as people, encouraged us in our work, and inspired us through his leadership, faith, and genuine kindness. His presence is deeply missed, but his example will continue to guide us."
We prayerfully remember Doug and give thanks for the lasting legacy he leaves within our CCM family.
"Well done, good and faithful servant." (Matthew 25:23)
