I don’t know when they stopped referring to Memorial Chapels as Funeral Homes, but, for me and my entire extended family and friends………………………. Danzansky-Goldberg put the “Home” in Funeral Home!! From my first phone call to announce that my beloved mother had passed on, they were caring and quietly dignified as we began the process of marking and defining her death. As with many jewish mothers, I often present a control conundrum (difficult problem) for those trying to help me. However, there was gentle guidance, no body language that spoke negatively, no rushing, and no long explanations and tedious details to further burdon an already difficult time in my life. And yet, when I walked out of the conference room I felt confident that my mother’s funeral would be a product of a well-seasoned, seamless organization. That projection became reality. As would be expected,Ii had questions and either lee or brad was always available on company or personal cell phone to answer immediately. To my knowledge, I don’t think I ever had to leave a message, nor did anyone have to call back. Besides being a proverbial Jewish mother, I am quite impatient even when not faced with a parent’s death!! I never found myself worrying or wondering about the funeral process. That was taken out of my hands and I could totally concentrate on the enormity of my loss. The limousine service arrived at my home ahead of the 8:30 a.m. Time, and that is quite impressive given the challenge of a tuesday morning rush hour in the DC area. Although I would have rather seen it pull up for a prom, this was a welcomed sight as I began the day. He fought the traffic as we traveled from Virginia to Maryland, and arrived punctually. My mother was a Washington DC native as well as I, and I grew up attending many funerals in that chapel. The meet and greet room is perfect. It’s beautifully and tastefully decorated. It’s comfortable. The temperature and lighting are perfect as the crowds begin to fill the room. There is no distraction or noise to detract from the person we are memorializing. From the corner of my eye I saw staff tending to things, but never intrusive and barely noticeable. I felt as though I was in a room in my own home. As we were courteously escorted to the chapel I took my seat in the always comfortable pews. Again, that room feels like home to me. I have a long history there. After all, death is an inevitable part of living a life. The quiet understated lighting, the two circular art plaques on either side of the lord’s prayer, the beautiful wood….can’t imagine any other place to host my mother’s coffin during her funeral service.