When my dad died, I was thirty years old. Standing at his visitation, answering a phone call in the flower room while the funeral home filled with people who loved him, I had not one single clue how to run a funeral company. I had zero leadership skills. Zero business knowledge. I had never even seen our financials.
And someone on the other end of that phone line asked me: “Lisa, what are you going to do with the business?”
That woman was a female owner in our profession. She had called to offer her condolences, and she called to offer something else, too: herself. Her guidance, knowledge and time.
“You can do this, Lisa. I will help you and mentor you.”
I walked back into that visitation a little different than I had walked out of it. Not because my grief was gone. It wasn’t. But because I had something I desperately needed: someone who believed I could do the thing I was terrified to do, and who was willing to stand beside me while I figured out how.
That is the power of a mentor.
Stephen Covey tells us to seek first to understand, then to be understood. That’s exactly what the best mentors do. They come in close. They listen. They ask the questions you’re afraid to ask yourself. And then, when you need it most, they tell you the truth.
Over the years, I gathered mentors the way some people gather certificates. From the women I met at the Women in Funeral Service Conference, to the owners in my study group who challenged me, to Dale Westby, a loyal manager who put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Lisa, you can do this and we are going to help you.” Every single one of them shaped me.
Not one of them was perfect. Not one of them told me only what I wanted to hear. A good mentor doesn’t just pat you on the back and tell you that you’re doing great. Especially when you are not. They stop you in your tracks. They say, “Maybe we need to rethink that.”
Abraham Lincoln surrounded himself with the people who had voted against him. Isn’t that something? He kept his critics close because he understood: the people who challenge you are often your greatest teachers. The people who tell you the hard truth are the ones who actually believe you can handle it.
Here is what I want you to hear today.
You do not have to have it all figured out before you reach for a mentor. You do not have to be polished or confident or certain of your direction. You just have to be open. Open to receiving help. Open to the idea that someone out there has walked the road you are on and wants to light the way for you.
And when someone offers you that gift, please receive it. Don’t deflect it. Don’t minimize it. Don’t tell yourself you’ll ask for help someday when you’re more ready. You are ready now.
If you feel a need to find an answer to something you don’t know, go find the person who does. Ask them to mentor you. If they say yes, show up. Do the work. And when you’ve grown, pay it forward to the woman coming up behind you.
This is how a profession transforms. One honest conversation, one open heart, one offered hand at a time.
That is why I founded the Funeral Women Lead Foundation. Because I know firsthand that you cannot do this alone. And more importantly, you should never have to.
Who is one person you could reach out to this week and ask for guidance? Go send that message. Today.
Rooting for you, every step.
Lisa Baue
