Sunday, 22 June 2014

Reflecting on Life's Achievements


As a funeral celebrant working in Bristol & Bath, I meet the most incredible people. On occasions, 'incredible' because the family is coping with the very worst of times with great strength and courage - I think the most heart-breaking yet inspiring sight I've witnessed is a father bearing his child's coffin into the ceremony - it's impossible not to be deeply moved.
But sometimes the 'incredible' is simply from the life that has been led. I met just such a family last week. We sat around the kitchen table, talking about the person's life. And the more we talked the more it became apparent what a wonderful life this family had lived - and how contented they were. In essence, the sentiment was if they were to die tomorrow, they would die happy. How many of us can say that?

As I reflected back I felt a little sad; a little envious too if I'm honest. Next year, I shall be 50 (see the '500 days' post). To date, I don't feel I've achieved a great deal in life. So many things left undone, so many 'might have beens', so many things I wish had turned out differently. If I'm lucky I may have 25-35 years to live and the saddest thing of all, is that I doubt I will feel any different come the end than I do now. It feels that the die is cast - perhaps the '500 days' project will reveal a different path.

3 comments:

  1. My first reaction is to feel sad, but even knowing you for the short time I have, I know that you have achieved a great deal. You have helped people (including my family and me) through the most difficult time of their lives. That time could have been very different without your help, support and guidance. That is some achievement, given that the rest of us don't have the opportunity, knowledge, understanding and most importantly, motivation, to do as you do.

    I'll see you soon, which is an achievement in itself - we have stayed in touch and I value that. Many people who I have met in much happier circumstances have sadly fallen off my radar' You have not.

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  2. This is a tricky response to write ... but thank you for your lovely words - your response means a great deal. My decision to become a celebrant was certainly one of my better ones (along with getting married - I got that one right too) (But my house buying usually precedes a crash...). Being a celebrant is probably the only role I have had in life where it is possible to make a difference. Being able to help people at a difficult time is hugely rewarding which prompts two immediate thoughts. a) If I can keep working as a celebrant, (or in the funeral sphere in some way) maybe I will be able to look back when I'm 75 and think "Thank goodness I found the right path eventually!" and b) maybe I should have followed a career path in a caring profession - but it is probably too late to change direction again now.

    I am feeling reflective (thoughtful rather than shiny) today - despite the lovely weather and a glorious day at Lyme Regis with friends yesterday - I'm just so aware that the clock is ticking. Perhaps it is because I have a funeral this week for someone only a few years younger than me. Its difficult not to reflect...

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  3. "Should have" is an interesting one ...there are always "should haves"... from my experience working in a caring profession (I used to work in the NHS and now as a Learning Support Assistant) means that you can be inhibited by rules and regulations from doing what you feel is the right/best thing to help those being cared for. By being a Celebrant, although you are bound by some rules, means that you can be more independent and adapt each occasion to suit the needs of those being helped - or am I wrong? Subject for discussion on Thursday maybe?

    I always regretted not going to University (don't ask - all to do with my father), but I did an Open University Degree, finishing at the age you will be soon. It was the most challenging, but marvellous time of my life. Maybe I should have done it earlier, but if I had, I wouldn't have enjoyed it half as much (not to mention astonishing myself when I re-read some of the essays I wrote - did I really know all that stuff?)

    Also, you are already in a caring profession, although presumably not the type you mean when you talk about changing direction.

    Enough from me - I am in danger of pretending to be wise and/or sensible, which I most definitely am not!

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