I haven't posted any of my favourite funeral poems for a while...well, this one is a very popular / often used poem, that seems to be resonating with families at the moment. For many, the sense of spirit living on is incredibly comforting and reassuring.
This post is about life, which makes a refreshing change. Now, you may need to sit down for this next bit of information - or at least prepare a sugar-heavy cup of tea for shock - but my 50th birthday is on the horizon (and for those of you who looked at the picture and thought "He's looking good for sixty", well, that's just mean...). Now, when I say 'on the horizon', its actually 500 days away (*give or take a few days - I worked it out once but life is too short to double check the figures) (which is exactly the attitude that held me back from a career as an accountant or physicist). Landmark birthdays are great for reassessing life. My feeling is that rather than wait for 50 and then make changes, I want to hit my 50th birthday fighting fit for the second half of my life...
I've written this blog posting countless times now; it follows on from the "Funeral Arranging - Part 1", written on on Tuesday; a response to an article by Emma Freud that appeared in The Guardian newspaper. It is an article well worth a read.
Part 2 reflects on Emma's experience of creating the Order of Service. As a celebrant, my approach is to share some time with the family, listen to what they would like in terms of music, prayers, poems, etc and create a ceremony that is heartfelt and personal to them. Emma writes...
Emma writes: "This [the order of service] invariably becomes the emotional focus of the week. It needs to be a collective effort and is probably the moment when family tensions emerge in that lovely dysfunctional way that only a close death can inspire.
Well, yes and no. Yes, because even the most cohesive families can find stress lines appearing as they come to terms with the changed situation.
The "More to Death" magazine is always a fascinating read and the new edition is no exception - click on the title to open the link. I know I may be slightly at odds with most people, but I find death incredibly fascinating. And although it is a subject we don't talk about, when I do mention it, almost everyone has questions or experiences they want to share. I'd be very interested to receive your thoughts - did any of the articles make you rethink (or start to think) about your own plans? There are some case studies of families taking care of a funeral very much 'in house'. Not for everyone, but interesting none the less.
Andrew Jackson is an independent funeral celebrant, available in Bristol, Bath & Somerset.
If you had to arrange a funeral today, would you put everything into the hands of experts or would you prefer a more personal approach? After all, there is no legal requirement to employ a funeral director; there are laws and obligations to follow, naturally, but using a funeral director isn't one of them. The reason for my posing the question follows an interesting article in the Guardian newspaper, written by Emma Freud. Its a detailed piece, which poses some interesting questions, so I shall pick out some key parts to expand on what Emma has said (but do read the full article, as it is really interesting)...
It has been a surreal few months for me. My father died at the start of December. We knew he was ill; we knew he wouldn't go on for ever, but we expected (maybe 'hoped' is more accurate) that he would still be with us to see in the New Year. Not to be... So we've experienced the stress of being summoned to his bedside, the privilege of keeping him company as the end drew close, the stillness and peace as he died and then the intrusiveness (I'm not sure that's actually a word) as a host of strangers (funeral and health professionals) appeared in our lives. There are so many things to sort out and really, all we wanted was to stop and reflect on our loss. As I said, it is a surreal time. It will take a while for life to feel 'normal' again - and I know it won't ever be the same.
As a celebrant, I meet many families who are struggling to create a meaningful ceremony because they simply don't know how the person envisaged their farewell. We don't talk about death: when we are young and healthy it feels as though we will live forever; as we talk to those nearer the end of their life, it feels like a conversation about death might just be tempting fate.
