Lisa Meyer lives above a funeral home. She is also, she will tell you without any apparent contradiction, one of the most enthusiastic celebrators of life you are likely to meet.

In April, she turned 50. She went to Disney World twice that month, to celebrate. Someone asked on April 30th whether she was going again this month. "I just don't wear my mouse ears downstairs," she says.

A 1994 graduate of Newton Community High School, Lisa left for Springfield to attend Robert Morris College and work at the Disney Store, building toward what she had always imagined: a career with Disney itself. Life redirected. She came home and worked in customer service, logistics for a trucking company, and event planning — jobs that seemed unconnected at the time and in hindsight were building the exact skillset her actual life would require. After returning home she met a funeral director named Jason, who had moved to Newton for work They dated briefly, but broke up. . A few years later, they ran into each other again, they married and the rest is history. "It's definitely a God thing."

Being the doting girlfriend of a funeral director had its consequences. Jason kept handing her books. The curiosity she felt became conviction. "If we're going to get married and this is what you want to do, I'm going to get licensed to do this too." She graduated from Vincennes University with a degree in mortuary science in 2010. She already had a business degree. They divided the work by natural talent and let each other run.

In 2014, the previous owner gave them 28 days from the day he signed to sale to the day they closed on three funeral homes. The logistics alone would have flattened most people. Lisa had done event planning, she was prepared and moved quickly. The funeral homes became Meyer. The business, which was three locations, became four when they later purchased the location in Olney. "I went from a three-ring circus to a four-ring circus," she says. During their first years as owners they learned they were expecting.

Electa was born in June 2015. She is a sixth grader now with an enthusiasm for dance and ventriloquism, having discovered Darcy Lynn and gone to Iowa specifically to see her perform. If Electa wants to try something, Lisa's answer is yes. "Go big or go home."

That philosophy runs directly through the work. Lisa has entered hospital rooms as families say their final goodbyes.  She has been requested by mothers to hand their babies to. She was once   called into an Amish community — intimately, by a hospital staff member who knew she was the right person — to help lay a baby to rest according to their wishes. She has served as a mother's liaison when a family was preparing for an honor walk and called her not to come later but to come now. "The family let me in that close to them," she said. The unspoken bond with that mother still holds space in her heart. The connection doesn't have to be spoken of, it takes a simple look.

She talks about serving families with a precision that cuts to the heart of it: "I immerse myself in your life on the worst day and get the highlight reel." She learns everything — the relationships, the humor, the history, the music, the tenderness — in the span of days. Then the family goes home, and she goes to the next family. Not because she doesn't care. Because she does. She carries the weight of everyone. "We cry right alongside families sometimes."

The contrast is not lost on her. A life built around saying goodbye to people has made her fierce about living. "Tomorrow's not promised." She has seen it confirmed hundreds of times, professionally and personally.

If she could sit with her sophomore self and offer a word: "If it fuels you or interests you, go for it. What's there to lose? You can always come back home." And then — with the hard-earned candor of someone who graduated before camera phones — "Don't do any damage along the way, because there's always a video camera now."

She has yet to get the Disney job, there's always retirement years. She got something she couldn't have scripted instead — a community that trusts her with its most important days, and details a daughter who loves the magic of Disney trips and wants to become an entertainment Cast Member, and a life she says she wouldn't trade.

She just doesn't wear the mouse ears downstairs.