So yesterday, I did the ceremony of a lady whose only child is abroad and unable to come home.
I got all choked up again. Tomorrow is the 2nd anniversary of my Mum's death and as I was standing there reading "and our thoughts go out to him..." I was thinking how sad it was not to be able to be at the funeral of his mum. There had been no estrangement, just physical distance and it caught the back of my throat as these things sometimes do.
Things will be calmer after tomorrow, I'm sure.
When I got back to the car, there were two messages on my mobile to call an FD who doesn't use me very often. I was keen to speak to him. I was less keen when he said "this is really short notice."
"Okay, when's the ceremony?"
"Tomorrow."
"Blimey."
But, I did it. I met the family yesterday evening (nice people, a few anecdotes to make it a bit special) and this morning we did the ceremony. I won't claim that it was the best funeral I've ever written, but it wasn't bad and, most importantly, the family were pleased.
However, I made an important discovery about myself, as again, I started to get choked. I put in an explanation about why we were having a non-religious ceremony (yes, I know, I've never heard a vicar explain why we're having a C of E one!) and I finished that off with "my name is X. Piry and I'm honoured to be conducting this ceremony today".
And that was it.
The word "honoured" I haven't always used it, and it hasn't always set me off, but the last few times I've said it, I've got choked up. So there's my answer. In the words of a character from a Guy Ritchie film, I've got to "leave it out" and I'll hopefully retain a little more composure.
Tuesday 11 November 2008
Sunday 9 November 2008
Actually, not doing so well, then
It had to be that after my positive last post, I was bound to crash.
It was because of the funeral of the lady that I knew.
Perhaps I should explain (or do I mean make pathetic excuses?)
Firstly, we're getting very close to the 2nd anniversary of my mum's death. This is making me a bit down and tearful. That's the trouble you see, when you don't believe that the dead "go to a better place" you just get pee'd off and upset that they're no longer in this one.
Secondly, I've had a bad week at my other job. This has also made me somewhat tearful.
Thirdly, as The Barenaked Ladies (Canadian band, for those who don't know) would sing - Who needs sleep? Well, I do, and it's not been forthcoming, making me a bit tired and emotional.
Are we getting a theme here?
So, I went along to the crematorium feeling more nervous than I've experienced since about my second or third ceremony. I was okay when everyone was coming in, but as soon as I started to speak, I started to cry.
I tried everything; pressing my fingernails into my palms, taking a breath, but in the end I just had to keep going.
I managed to pull it all back together (probably reading a little too quickly, but I do that anyway) until I got to a little tribute concerning working with the lady in question. Then the voice went again.
The weird thing was, by the time we got to the committal, I was actually okay, and could do the most poignant bit without too much trouble. Contrary, me?
Needless to say, I've been beating myself up since, despite the usual number of "that was a lovely service" comments, the family members all telling me that my upset added to the feeling of the funeral, and the lady's partner wanting to stick cash in my hand.
However, I am still cross with myself and having drama queen tendencies naturally believe that I was completely rubbish, have blotted my copy book and will never work again.
Thankfully, I have another ceremony tomorrow, so am hopeful that I will restore some of my own faith in my ability to do the job.
In my life I've trained hundreds of people and I've been waiting for the moment when I would go from "I think I can do this" to my first significant mistake and the subsequent feeling of "I'm crap, I should give up now". I knew that this moment was coming, but it's still horrible when it arrives.
Onwards and upwards.
It was because of the funeral of the lady that I knew.
Perhaps I should explain (or do I mean make pathetic excuses?)
Firstly, we're getting very close to the 2nd anniversary of my mum's death. This is making me a bit down and tearful. That's the trouble you see, when you don't believe that the dead "go to a better place" you just get pee'd off and upset that they're no longer in this one.
Secondly, I've had a bad week at my other job. This has also made me somewhat tearful.
Thirdly, as The Barenaked Ladies (Canadian band, for those who don't know) would sing - Who needs sleep? Well, I do, and it's not been forthcoming, making me a bit tired and emotional.
Are we getting a theme here?
So, I went along to the crematorium feeling more nervous than I've experienced since about my second or third ceremony. I was okay when everyone was coming in, but as soon as I started to speak, I started to cry.
I tried everything; pressing my fingernails into my palms, taking a breath, but in the end I just had to keep going.
I managed to pull it all back together (probably reading a little too quickly, but I do that anyway) until I got to a little tribute concerning working with the lady in question. Then the voice went again.
The weird thing was, by the time we got to the committal, I was actually okay, and could do the most poignant bit without too much trouble. Contrary, me?
Needless to say, I've been beating myself up since, despite the usual number of "that was a lovely service" comments, the family members all telling me that my upset added to the feeling of the funeral, and the lady's partner wanting to stick cash in my hand.
However, I am still cross with myself and having drama queen tendencies naturally believe that I was completely rubbish, have blotted my copy book and will never work again.
Thankfully, I have another ceremony tomorrow, so am hopeful that I will restore some of my own faith in my ability to do the job.
In my life I've trained hundreds of people and I've been waiting for the moment when I would go from "I think I can do this" to my first significant mistake and the subsequent feeling of "I'm crap, I should give up now". I knew that this moment was coming, but it's still horrible when it arrives.
Onwards and upwards.
Monday 3 November 2008
Not doing so bad after all, then.
There are times in my life when I realise how competitive I am and it's not a trait that I like to discover.
This weekend there was a gathering of the godless where I met up with fellow celebrants, including some from my training group.
This was great; with them (and others) we shared lots of ideas and came away feeling positive and enthused.
Before the gathering, I was convinced that one of the group was doing hundreds of ceremonies and that I was doing none by comparison. It turns out that she's doing roughly the same number and I was relieved. Yes, I know it's pathetic; we're not in a race or competition, but this is what I mean about the trait I don't like in myself.
Another colleague, who trained a couple of months after us, as got a slightly higher workload and I found myself feeling jealous and resentful. Yes, I know, I know. It is pathetic.
I've had a couple of ceremonies since my last post. We nearly had a comedy moment with the first one. As it was at the beginning, when everyone's feeling a bit anxious and I try to keep the dignity pretty high, this would have been awful, but thankfully it turned out okay.
The deceased had been a sailor and a floral tribute of a boat was on the coffin as he was carried in. The tribute was a flower-covered base (hull?) with a mast and sail. All was fine until they got near the catafalque. At this particular crematorium, there's a cross brace in the ceiling and so 100 of us watched with contorted faces as the top of the mast hit the cross-brace. Thankfully, there was a bit of flex and so it just bent and then went back upright, but that could have been funny/a nightmare depending on your point of view.
When I was talking with the family afterwards, they asked if I was going to write a book as the deceased had been quite a character and there had been some lovely anecdotes to share. I smiled and said I would keep them anonymous if I did. Didn't feel the need to mention this blog at the time.
And then yesterday was one of those ceremonies where lots of people like to speak, which is great. I was prepared (I had a long tribute and a short tribute written, and ended up using the short one). It was a bit weird at one point as one speaker started talking about seeing a dead relative (this wasn't a dream, apparently) and now being happy that the deceased would be meeting up with him .....
Confession time - I completely forgot to put in the one poem they had chosen. To be honest, with so many family members speaking, time was very short. I said afterwards that it was more important that everyone who knew the deceased spoke rather than reading a poem, which I do think to be true, but I should have put the poem in, even if it was only in the copy of the words that I give to the family afterwards.
However, they were pleased with the way things went and another funeral arranger/director (friend of the chief mourner) was there, so I'm now on another FD's "list".
It's terribly sordid and commercial sometimes, isn't it.
But, following the gathering of the godless, I'm fired up and raring to go.
I am also aware that I was among adults this weekend. I was in the ladies, which had about four cubicles. How do I know that I was with grownups? Someone farted and nobody laughed.
This weekend there was a gathering of the godless where I met up with fellow celebrants, including some from my training group.
This was great; with them (and others) we shared lots of ideas and came away feeling positive and enthused.
Before the gathering, I was convinced that one of the group was doing hundreds of ceremonies and that I was doing none by comparison. It turns out that she's doing roughly the same number and I was relieved. Yes, I know it's pathetic; we're not in a race or competition, but this is what I mean about the trait I don't like in myself.
Another colleague, who trained a couple of months after us, as got a slightly higher workload and I found myself feeling jealous and resentful. Yes, I know, I know. It is pathetic.
I've had a couple of ceremonies since my last post. We nearly had a comedy moment with the first one. As it was at the beginning, when everyone's feeling a bit anxious and I try to keep the dignity pretty high, this would have been awful, but thankfully it turned out okay.
The deceased had been a sailor and a floral tribute of a boat was on the coffin as he was carried in. The tribute was a flower-covered base (hull?) with a mast and sail. All was fine until they got near the catafalque. At this particular crematorium, there's a cross brace in the ceiling and so 100 of us watched with contorted faces as the top of the mast hit the cross-brace. Thankfully, there was a bit of flex and so it just bent and then went back upright, but that could have been funny/a nightmare depending on your point of view.
When I was talking with the family afterwards, they asked if I was going to write a book as the deceased had been quite a character and there had been some lovely anecdotes to share. I smiled and said I would keep them anonymous if I did. Didn't feel the need to mention this blog at the time.
And then yesterday was one of those ceremonies where lots of people like to speak, which is great. I was prepared (I had a long tribute and a short tribute written, and ended up using the short one). It was a bit weird at one point as one speaker started talking about seeing a dead relative (this wasn't a dream, apparently) and now being happy that the deceased would be meeting up with him .....
Confession time - I completely forgot to put in the one poem they had chosen. To be honest, with so many family members speaking, time was very short. I said afterwards that it was more important that everyone who knew the deceased spoke rather than reading a poem, which I do think to be true, but I should have put the poem in, even if it was only in the copy of the words that I give to the family afterwards.
However, they were pleased with the way things went and another funeral arranger/director (friend of the chief mourner) was there, so I'm now on another FD's "list".
It's terribly sordid and commercial sometimes, isn't it.
But, following the gathering of the godless, I'm fired up and raring to go.
I am also aware that I was among adults this weekend. I was in the ladies, which had about four cubicles. How do I know that I was with grownups? Someone farted and nobody laughed.
Tuesday 28 October 2008
A few more ceremonies, and one coming up that I didn't want
Well, it's been a while, but I have been kinda busy.
After my manic week, the next ceremony was ....odd.
It was a suicide, a social services job and all terribly tragic. Except about 20 people turned up, which is extremely unusual for a council ceremony.
I had a meeting and several phones calls with the chief mourner, who had a complicated relationship with the deceased.
To be honest, I'm not sure that a humanist ceremony was the right choice. He was a man always looking for something and although he wasn't "religious" as such, through conversations I've had afterwards, I wonder if a priest should have been called, rather than a fat bird with a nice line in poems.
That said, it all went well, but one of the speakers did get an "Amen" out of the congregation! She started off by giving thanks for the life of the deceased (alarm bells starting to tinkle lightly), and finished up with hoping that he'd found the peace "that passeth all understanding". (Sirens clattering through my brain). She said Amen and got a response, but to be honest, I didn't mind. by that point there was nothing I could do about it; I hadn't seen her text beforehand and most people seemed to respond favourably to the ceremony.
I was stalked a little bit by the chief mourner afterwards - she has a lot going on, and I think she needs to talk to someone about it. But I, with the best will in the world and all the compassion I can muster, am neither qualified or experienced as a grief counsellor. She mentioned that she is seeing a professional, so I didn't feel to guilty about gently cutting off the lines of communication.
Since then I've had a couple of very elderly "customers". One was a retired bachelor school teacher. I met his best friend who'd looked after his affairs in life. It was very much a case of old school, stiff upper lip, but I think that they were genuinely upset by the loss.
I did have an almost giggle moment, though. They didn't want music in the reflection, just silence. I said "we will now have a moment of silence for reflection" and their heads bowed. But I then kept talking "use this time to remember XX, those with a religious belief may like to use this time for prayer, etc....." and the heads bobbed up again.
Not to self "We will shortly have a moment of silence for reflection..."
The next elderly lady was one of a type. The sort of woman who wanted to save the world and was very involved in committees, politics and quangos, but had, over the course of many years, individually pissed off every single member of her own family.
I have a friend who believes in angels, and the spirit carrying on (I don't share her beliefs, but I'm always interested to hear them). My friend reckons that this lady's spirit would have been in the chapel and realised how empty it was. If she's right, it's very sad. But then again, it's not that much fun if she's wrong.
There are some more lined up over the next few weeks, including the ceremony that I didn't want.
It was bound to happen one day. I know the deceased. Not well, not a bosom buddy, but a former colleague. The sort of person that if I met her in the town, we'd stop, say hello, catch up on how the family are doing.
I knew that this lady was unwell, but hadn't realised just how poorly she was. It will be tough, partly because of the sadness I feel because I knew her, partly because of the tragedy I feel because she was only in her 50s. And partly, for very selfish reasons, because there will be people I know in the congregation, who will see me at work the next day and will be telling others how I did.
No pressure then!
After my manic week, the next ceremony was ....odd.
It was a suicide, a social services job and all terribly tragic. Except about 20 people turned up, which is extremely unusual for a council ceremony.
I had a meeting and several phones calls with the chief mourner, who had a complicated relationship with the deceased.
To be honest, I'm not sure that a humanist ceremony was the right choice. He was a man always looking for something and although he wasn't "religious" as such, through conversations I've had afterwards, I wonder if a priest should have been called, rather than a fat bird with a nice line in poems.
That said, it all went well, but one of the speakers did get an "Amen" out of the congregation! She started off by giving thanks for the life of the deceased (alarm bells starting to tinkle lightly), and finished up with hoping that he'd found the peace "that passeth all understanding". (Sirens clattering through my brain). She said Amen and got a response, but to be honest, I didn't mind. by that point there was nothing I could do about it; I hadn't seen her text beforehand and most people seemed to respond favourably to the ceremony.
I was stalked a little bit by the chief mourner afterwards - she has a lot going on, and I think she needs to talk to someone about it. But I, with the best will in the world and all the compassion I can muster, am neither qualified or experienced as a grief counsellor. She mentioned that she is seeing a professional, so I didn't feel to guilty about gently cutting off the lines of communication.
Since then I've had a couple of very elderly "customers". One was a retired bachelor school teacher. I met his best friend who'd looked after his affairs in life. It was very much a case of old school, stiff upper lip, but I think that they were genuinely upset by the loss.
I did have an almost giggle moment, though. They didn't want music in the reflection, just silence. I said "we will now have a moment of silence for reflection" and their heads bowed. But I then kept talking "use this time to remember XX, those with a religious belief may like to use this time for prayer, etc....." and the heads bobbed up again.
Not to self "We will shortly have a moment of silence for reflection..."
The next elderly lady was one of a type. The sort of woman who wanted to save the world and was very involved in committees, politics and quangos, but had, over the course of many years, individually pissed off every single member of her own family.
I have a friend who believes in angels, and the spirit carrying on (I don't share her beliefs, but I'm always interested to hear them). My friend reckons that this lady's spirit would have been in the chapel and realised how empty it was. If she's right, it's very sad. But then again, it's not that much fun if she's wrong.
There are some more lined up over the next few weeks, including the ceremony that I didn't want.
It was bound to happen one day. I know the deceased. Not well, not a bosom buddy, but a former colleague. The sort of person that if I met her in the town, we'd stop, say hello, catch up on how the family are doing.
I knew that this lady was unwell, but hadn't realised just how poorly she was. It will be tough, partly because of the sadness I feel because I knew her, partly because of the tragedy I feel because she was only in her 50s. And partly, for very selfish reasons, because there will be people I know in the congregation, who will see me at work the next day and will be telling others how I did.
No pressure then!
Saturday 27 September 2008
What a week! Tragic cases and sod's law on timing.
I'm still working part time in my previous occupation. My boss has been brilliant, and as long as I don't miss any deadlines (no pun intended), and keep a tab on my hours, I can work when I want.
This has made a huge difference - it's been what's enabled me to pursue my new career. When needed, therefore, I like to help out, and repay the flexibility that my boss has shown.
The company I work for has recently bought a competitor and so we need to start integrating computer systems etc. I am considered a bit of a "guru" on our system, so was the natural choice to go and train our new colleagues. We're in the same town, so no biggie on travelling. As, for the last few weeks there had been no work at all, I offered to go full time, as we were looking to integrate systems at the end of September (or Tuesday, as it's better known). I put three criteria on my offer to work:
This has made a huge difference - it's been what's enabled me to pursue my new career. When needed, therefore, I like to help out, and repay the flexibility that my boss has shown.
The company I work for has recently bought a competitor and so we need to start integrating computer systems etc. I am considered a bit of a "guru" on our system, so was the natural choice to go and train our new colleagues. We're in the same town, so no biggie on travelling. As, for the last few weeks there had been no work at all, I offered to go full time, as we were looking to integrate systems at the end of September (or Tuesday, as it's better known). I put three criteria on my offer to work:
- I would like to take the hours in time, rather than money (this was popular with the boss, for obvious budgetary reasons).
- I could keep my mobile on silent (in the vain hope that a desperate FD would call and offer me some work
- I would undertake any ceremonies which came up.
I've had four gigs this week!
It's fair to say that I am absolutely knackered! Training is tiring for both the giver and receiver, so I was expecting to feel a bit sleepy by this weekend, but, man alive, talk about Sod's law on the timing!
The ceremonies were pretty varied too!
Last weekend:
I cried at a family visit - I apologised - it's unprofessional, but this was a particularly difficult ceremony. I was always dreading my first baby funeral. I never dreamt that my first ceremony for a stillborn would be a double ceremony - for both the baby and his Mum. It was just an absolute choker. Nice people - good people, the sort who care for others, and this happens to them. But they were lovely and gave me lots of great stories about the deceased.
I'd done another visit on Friday evening, so all weekend (apart from a couple of hours out) I was sitting here at the computer writing scripts and tributes.
Monday - training all day
Tuesday - in theory a day's holiday, but I went into the new company for an hour's training before heading off to my local crem for a ceremony at 11:45. This was ceremony for an elderly gentleman who'd had a good life and again, there were great stories to tell. It was well received and I've had a lovely thank you note since.
Then I had to leg it to the crem at a nearby town (about 15 miles away) for a 1:45 double slot for a 39 year old man. This was a big ceremony (not everybody could get into the chapel) and there had been lots of fingers in pies with regard to the tribute (which is why I only send the tribute out, not the whole ceremony, or I'd have to edit it five minutes before, when the family arrives, and deliver it from a laptop!). I'd had several conversations with the FD as the family kept changing their minds what they wanted to do (follow the coffin or be in first, etc) but it all went smoothly in the end. Again, folks have been kind enough to send thank you emails, which is very gratifying, as it helps to reassure me that I'm doing it right. After the ceremony I went to my usual office to pick up some prints etc, to take them back to new co the next day - some day's holiday.
Wednesday was the double ceremony - and a real test of character. My voice cracked a couple of times, but I managed not to break down (it was touch and go) and so the ceremony was delivered. I don't feel that it was my best performance (although not for the want of trying) but the family seemed pleased as did the Funeral Director. I realise I sound like a hard bitch on this one, but this was a funeral director I've been trying to get work with for a while, so I was glad of the opportunity, but not the situation. The FD was really kind and offered me the chance to say that I couldn't do this gig once I'd heard the circumstances, but I really felt that I couldn't reject them at this worst possible of times. If that sounds pompous or too full of myself, then I'm sorry, but I genuinely didn't want to turn these folks away.
And then in the afternoon, I had to go and train people! I was standing there saying "press this button" etc, thinking "but what does it matter? It's only a computer. It's only a finance company, it's not THAT important".
Thursday was my final ceremony for the week, and elderly gentleman who'd been poorly and had Alzheimer's. Still very sad for his family, of course, but less tragic, so a much calmer ceremony. Usually, if someone is reading, I offer to take over, or to read it for them if they feel that the emotion will render them incapable. I could only partially do that this time, as the man's grandson read a poem in French! I could probably have read it (I know what the words should sound like), but I would have got all of the inflections wrong, I'm sure. I had an English translation too, just in case.
Then it was back to work again for more training.
So that was all of my gigs for the week, and then I did a full day's work on Friday. Of course, when I've got home this week I've either been doing work for the ceremonies, or work for the training, so I've ended up sitting at the computer til nearly midnight, just trying to make sure that everything is covered!
It's now been decided that the transfer will happen at the end of October instead - panic over! Sod's law will say that I won't get any more ceremonies for three weeks!
It's proved to me a couple of things:
- I should learn to say no- I can't be in two places at once.
- I really love the funerals job, no matter how tragic the circumstances, (at the moment it's hard to think of something worse than Wednesday's ceremony, but I'm sure there will be). It's the most rewarding, satisfying thing that I've ever done. Even if people drive me mad (I now feel as though I'm on call, 24/7), it's still the best job that I could do. It would be great if I could give up the other nonsense!
Wednesday 17 September 2008
Am I a bad person.....?
I ask, because the family visit for my 16th ceremony was hysterical!
Okay, these weren't the most tragic of circumstances. The man wasn't that old, but old enough to have a great grandchild, so he'd had a fair crack at life. However, he was a character, and with his three kids (all grown, natch), we just had such a laugh! They were telling me all these tales about their Dad, who was a bit of a character, and it was a scream.
Obviously, come the day, things were more subdued, but we still managed to get a few laughs from them and, again, they all seemed happy with the ceremony. Nice people.
But then a tragic one followed.
You don't want to be doing a funeral on the 25th birthday of the deceased.
'Nuff said.
Okay, these weren't the most tragic of circumstances. The man wasn't that old, but old enough to have a great grandchild, so he'd had a fair crack at life. However, he was a character, and with his three kids (all grown, natch), we just had such a laugh! They were telling me all these tales about their Dad, who was a bit of a character, and it was a scream.
Obviously, come the day, things were more subdued, but we still managed to get a few laughs from them and, again, they all seemed happy with the ceremony. Nice people.
But then a tragic one followed.
You don't want to be doing a funeral on the 25th birthday of the deceased.
'Nuff said.
What I did over the summer....
I realise that I haven't been keeping my readership (!) up to date.
Ceremony number 12. This is the one I was assessed for accreditation. It was fairly short notice, but a lovely lady, telling the life story of her aged and lovely Mum.
This would have been one that I'd have chosen for accreditation as, apart from a problem with flowers at the beginning, it all went smoothly.
Then came number 13. The hospice lady, whose illness progressed before I could get to meet her. This was tough.
Perhaps I should explain. My Mum died nearly two years ago. This lady had the same name, was roughly the same age and also died of cancer. She had three daughters (I'm one of three girls) and there was just something about this family that I really liked. Because I'd been involved before she died, I got a call very soon after her death and ended up meeting the family less than 48 hours after the poor lady had gone. It was all a bit raw.
The ceremony went really well, there were lovely tributes from family members and a work colleague. At one point, during the ceremony, I thought I was going to lose it, as I looked across the chapel and saw one of the grandchildren sobbing his heart out. But I held it together.
Afterwards, I was standing next to the funeral director who asked me if I was okay. I answered yes (what else does one answer?). The FD then said it looked as though I was a bit tired (Thanks!) and wondered if this was affecting me a bit more than usual. I swung around, so that nobody else could see the tears come to my eyes, as I explained about my Mum. I then spent the next five minutes apologising for being unprofessional etc. A tough one.
Number 14 was almost the opposite, another one of those where I felt that I cared more than the family. I hadn't been able to have a visit, just a few phone calls with family members who weren't particularly forthcoming. Considering that this lady was young enough to have both parents alive, it seemed particularly sad to me that so little effort was being made.
There were tears during the ceremony, but afterwards, the deceased's father just wanted to tell us about all of his war experiences, rather than his daughter. Maybe that was his way of dealing with grief. Maybe the deceased was a complete cow. Maybe it's best not to speculate.
Number 15 was another lady, but this time an elderly lady (she of the funny, see post below). We nearly hit a problem with this one. After all,these are non-religious funerals and the chief mourner wanted this poem all about heaven. I could understand the sentiment; wanting to give comfort to those left behind but I objected, publicly for the reason that it was all about heaven, and privately for the reason that it had a definite touch of the Rupert Bears about it. In the end, however, we compromised. I said that she could have it in the ceremony, but that I wouldn't say it. She had her sister-in-law read it instead and everyone seemed happy. Very happy, in fact. I got invited to a wedding on the back of it. I declined - they were lovely people but I don't know them, they don't know me and they certainly wouldn't want to see me drunk!
Ceremony number 12. This is the one I was assessed for accreditation. It was fairly short notice, but a lovely lady, telling the life story of her aged and lovely Mum.
This would have been one that I'd have chosen for accreditation as, apart from a problem with flowers at the beginning, it all went smoothly.
Then came number 13. The hospice lady, whose illness progressed before I could get to meet her. This was tough.
Perhaps I should explain. My Mum died nearly two years ago. This lady had the same name, was roughly the same age and also died of cancer. She had three daughters (I'm one of three girls) and there was just something about this family that I really liked. Because I'd been involved before she died, I got a call very soon after her death and ended up meeting the family less than 48 hours after the poor lady had gone. It was all a bit raw.
The ceremony went really well, there were lovely tributes from family members and a work colleague. At one point, during the ceremony, I thought I was going to lose it, as I looked across the chapel and saw one of the grandchildren sobbing his heart out. But I held it together.
Afterwards, I was standing next to the funeral director who asked me if I was okay. I answered yes (what else does one answer?). The FD then said it looked as though I was a bit tired (Thanks!) and wondered if this was affecting me a bit more than usual. I swung around, so that nobody else could see the tears come to my eyes, as I explained about my Mum. I then spent the next five minutes apologising for being unprofessional etc. A tough one.
Number 14 was almost the opposite, another one of those where I felt that I cared more than the family. I hadn't been able to have a visit, just a few phone calls with family members who weren't particularly forthcoming. Considering that this lady was young enough to have both parents alive, it seemed particularly sad to me that so little effort was being made.
There were tears during the ceremony, but afterwards, the deceased's father just wanted to tell us about all of his war experiences, rather than his daughter. Maybe that was his way of dealing with grief. Maybe the deceased was a complete cow. Maybe it's best not to speculate.
Number 15 was another lady, but this time an elderly lady (she of the funny, see post below). We nearly hit a problem with this one. After all,these are non-religious funerals and the chief mourner wanted this poem all about heaven. I could understand the sentiment; wanting to give comfort to those left behind but I objected, publicly for the reason that it was all about heaven, and privately for the reason that it had a definite touch of the Rupert Bears about it. In the end, however, we compromised. I said that she could have it in the ceremony, but that I wouldn't say it. She had her sister-in-law read it instead and everyone seemed happy. Very happy, in fact. I got invited to a wedding on the back of it. I declined - they were lovely people but I don't know them, they don't know me and they certainly wouldn't want to see me drunk!
Saturday 16 August 2008
A funny....... but still no accreditation
Forgive me bloggers, for I have sinned - it's been over a month since my last confession.
Regular readers (I live in hope) will know that I was feeling very jaded after my last ceremony, and concerned about my first live one.
Unfortunately, my first live one became too ill to have a meaningful meeting, so I just did the usual family visit after she'd died. Less than 48 hours after she'd died.
But before I got to that I had ceremony no 10. Not my first suicide, but my youngest - a 29 year old man. In a way, I came riding in like the cavalry because a different funeral director had tried to force a vicar on them, who just didn't listen to "we don't want a religious funeral". It made me really angry on behalf of the funeral profession - these people have been through enough through the death of their son; the last thing they needed was further distress.
As expected, it was a full to bursting ceremony (which makes it all the more poignant, as the young man in question obviously didn't feel that he could reach out to any of them, despite their desire to help him) and very emotional.
My 11th ceremony was interesting from a "learning about myself" point of view. The deceased was a man who, according to his family, wanted as little fuss as possible. They were lovely people, but could go off at tangents, so the family visit went on for 2 1/2 hours. The ceremony was a "who would like to come up and speak" job (the celebrant's worst nightmare) and so it felt a bit chaotic, but for me, the hardest part was keeping my patience with the chief mourners. They turned the whole thing into a stage show and I found myself thinking "I could swing for you, lady". It was a test of my professionalism that I didn't just think "oh, sod it" and go through the motions to get to the end.
After much diary changes, I finally got assess for accreditation and was lucky, it was a ceremony that went well and didn't have too many complications. The daughter of the deceased was a really nice lady who told me lots of great stories about her Mum, so all I had to do was put them into the ceremony.
I'm still waiting for the accreditation (I believe that there are committees involved), and when that's happened I can get my official business cards and go around the funeral directors again.
Then we came to my live one - the one that affected me the most, as there were so many resonances with my Mum's death (same name, etc). After the ceremony, I actually had a tear, which is not something I'm proud of, but I held it together for the ceremony, which is all that matters.
So what's the funny? Well, I may have already warned you that I have a black sense of humour, but I wish to be rewarded for my restraint.
"After her stroke Mum lost her speech.
But she never complained....."
Regular readers (I live in hope) will know that I was feeling very jaded after my last ceremony, and concerned about my first live one.
Unfortunately, my first live one became too ill to have a meaningful meeting, so I just did the usual family visit after she'd died. Less than 48 hours after she'd died.
But before I got to that I had ceremony no 10. Not my first suicide, but my youngest - a 29 year old man. In a way, I came riding in like the cavalry because a different funeral director had tried to force a vicar on them, who just didn't listen to "we don't want a religious funeral". It made me really angry on behalf of the funeral profession - these people have been through enough through the death of their son; the last thing they needed was further distress.
As expected, it was a full to bursting ceremony (which makes it all the more poignant, as the young man in question obviously didn't feel that he could reach out to any of them, despite their desire to help him) and very emotional.
My 11th ceremony was interesting from a "learning about myself" point of view. The deceased was a man who, according to his family, wanted as little fuss as possible. They were lovely people, but could go off at tangents, so the family visit went on for 2 1/2 hours. The ceremony was a "who would like to come up and speak" job (the celebrant's worst nightmare) and so it felt a bit chaotic, but for me, the hardest part was keeping my patience with the chief mourners. They turned the whole thing into a stage show and I found myself thinking "I could swing for you, lady". It was a test of my professionalism that I didn't just think "oh, sod it" and go through the motions to get to the end.
After much diary changes, I finally got assess for accreditation and was lucky, it was a ceremony that went well and didn't have too many complications. The daughter of the deceased was a really nice lady who told me lots of great stories about her Mum, so all I had to do was put them into the ceremony.
I'm still waiting for the accreditation (I believe that there are committees involved), and when that's happened I can get my official business cards and go around the funeral directors again.
Then we came to my live one - the one that affected me the most, as there were so many resonances with my Mum's death (same name, etc). After the ceremony, I actually had a tear, which is not something I'm proud of, but I held it together for the ceremony, which is all that matters.
So what's the funny? Well, I may have already warned you that I have a black sense of humour, but I wish to be rewarded for my restraint.
"After her stroke Mum lost her speech.
But she never complained....."
Wednesday 9 July 2008
An odd day....
.... and largely unsatisfactory, but then things change...
I did ceremony number 9 today, and for this one I hadn't been able to do a family visit, as the family are all over the country.
I got very little information about the deceased; I felt I hadn't got a handle on her at all, so this ceremony lasted about 15 minutes.
I know, I know, but honestly, I put in 2 poems (at least three verses each) and 4 readings, what else could I do that wasn't just padding?
So this felt very unsatisfactory.
Then I thought I'd go out selling myself again. I went to a small town nearby, but couldn't find the Funeral Directors. Never mind, I thought, I'll do that another time - there were a couple of village FDs I was looking for, so despite the fact that the weather was disgusting, I thought I'd keep on.
I couldn't find the second one, either. This village has only got one street, but I'll be buggered if I could find the place. That's the problem with house names instead of numbers, I guess.
When I got to the next village I wanted, I realised that I had my mobile and a list of phone numbers with me. I could have rung them!!!!!
Never mind, I found the third and left my leaflets with a very nice lady.
On my way back home (feeling mightily jaded by this time), it occurred to me that there's another small town about 6 miles from where I live that I hadn't been a-touting in, so I stopped off.
I had a long conversation with another very nice lady, who doesn't arrange funerals herself, but was interested in what I do, and agreed to hand out my leaflets if appropriate.
I then went to the other FD in the town, and realising that they were part of the co-op, I could reassure him that I had done work for one of the other local offices, so he seemed almost receptive.
Then when I got home, there was a message on the answerphone - I've got my first live one.
There is a lady at the local hospice who has been given a few weeks to live, and wants a humanist ceremony. I'm currently waiting for a call back from her husband, who wants reassuring that there will be no tree-hugging or talking to fairies, and I will go and meet the lady and her husband (probably at the hospice) to discuss their funeral.
It's my first "living funeral", and my biggest fear is that memories of my Mum will come crashing in, and I'll fall apart - I'm crying now as I write this.
But I've come to a conclusion - crying while typing is fine. As long as I don't dissolve either at the family visit or during the ceremony - that would be "a bad thing".
More details to follow, when there are some to tell.
I did ceremony number 9 today, and for this one I hadn't been able to do a family visit, as the family are all over the country.
I got very little information about the deceased; I felt I hadn't got a handle on her at all, so this ceremony lasted about 15 minutes.
I know, I know, but honestly, I put in 2 poems (at least three verses each) and 4 readings, what else could I do that wasn't just padding?
So this felt very unsatisfactory.
Then I thought I'd go out selling myself again. I went to a small town nearby, but couldn't find the Funeral Directors. Never mind, I thought, I'll do that another time - there were a couple of village FDs I was looking for, so despite the fact that the weather was disgusting, I thought I'd keep on.
I couldn't find the second one, either. This village has only got one street, but I'll be buggered if I could find the place. That's the problem with house names instead of numbers, I guess.
When I got to the next village I wanted, I realised that I had my mobile and a list of phone numbers with me. I could have rung them!!!!!
Never mind, I found the third and left my leaflets with a very nice lady.
On my way back home (feeling mightily jaded by this time), it occurred to me that there's another small town about 6 miles from where I live that I hadn't been a-touting in, so I stopped off.
I had a long conversation with another very nice lady, who doesn't arrange funerals herself, but was interested in what I do, and agreed to hand out my leaflets if appropriate.
I then went to the other FD in the town, and realising that they were part of the co-op, I could reassure him that I had done work for one of the other local offices, so he seemed almost receptive.
Then when I got home, there was a message on the answerphone - I've got my first live one.
There is a lady at the local hospice who has been given a few weeks to live, and wants a humanist ceremony. I'm currently waiting for a call back from her husband, who wants reassuring that there will be no tree-hugging or talking to fairies, and I will go and meet the lady and her husband (probably at the hospice) to discuss their funeral.
It's my first "living funeral", and my biggest fear is that memories of my Mum will come crashing in, and I'll fall apart - I'm crying now as I write this.
But I've come to a conclusion - crying while typing is fine. As long as I don't dissolve either at the family visit or during the ceremony - that would be "a bad thing".
More details to follow, when there are some to tell.
Monday 9 June 2008
Knackered, and thanks
Well,
I've got through what felt like a mammouth week. I think they all went well - I've had a couple of emails of thanks, so looking good.
In conclusion.
Tuesday - much winking.
Wednesday - nearly converted a Jewish man to humanism. Seriously, it all went really well - for the first time I felt absolutely in control, and able to do the job.
Thursday - didn't sing the hymn, and not many people seemed to know where the burial ground was - but that was one of my emails of thanks, so it must have been okay.
Friday - simple, understated - I think it was a success.
Actually, Friday's had the best moment of the week. After the committal, I usually say a few words to remind people that they don't have to forget their loved one, and when I said "use the phrases that he would use", the two sons of the deceased caught each others' eye and started laughing. I would love to know what phrase was going through their minds, as one of their cousins started to smile as well. I will never know the answer, but it was a lovely moment, and one of those that makes it a bit special.
I've nothing booked now, and have had to turn a couple down, 'cos I'm off on my hols soon, but I hope to be up and running again next month.
I've got through what felt like a mammouth week. I think they all went well - I've had a couple of emails of thanks, so looking good.
In conclusion.
Tuesday - much winking.
Wednesday - nearly converted a Jewish man to humanism. Seriously, it all went really well - for the first time I felt absolutely in control, and able to do the job.
Thursday - didn't sing the hymn, and not many people seemed to know where the burial ground was - but that was one of my emails of thanks, so it must have been okay.
Friday - simple, understated - I think it was a success.
Actually, Friday's had the best moment of the week. After the committal, I usually say a few words to remind people that they don't have to forget their loved one, and when I said "use the phrases that he would use", the two sons of the deceased caught each others' eye and started laughing. I would love to know what phrase was going through their minds, as one of their cousins started to smile as well. I will never know the answer, but it was a lovely moment, and one of those that makes it a bit special.
I've nothing booked now, and have had to turn a couple down, 'cos I'm off on my hols soon, but I hope to be up and running again next month.
Tuesday 3 June 2008
A good one and winking.
Today was a good ceremony.
How do you judge these things? By the comments you get afterwards? By the number of people who come to shake your hand? By your own gut feel? The comments from the funeral director? Whatever it was, today went well.
The main person I have to thank for that is the wife of the deceased. She had written a piece from her late husband's point of view, which, I'll be honest, I was worried about. Because I'd never met the man, I didn't know if I would give it the right voice, but, bless her, it worked. Folks were laughing through their tears, and it set the right tone for the whole ceremony.
On the way out, she thanked me, and praised the ceremony, as did the deceased's mother (he was a young man, sadly), and various assorted relatives. I got a kiss from the wife's Mum.
There was a man of the cloth in the crowd. That phased me a little to start with, but in the end I just had to do my best. I know that I tripped over a few words and said a poem wrong (didn't carry over a line properly), and I was conscious of his presence then, but the rest of the time, I just made sure I didn't cry, and tried to do a good job.
On the way out, he hesitated before coming to shake my hand. I hope I didn't smile too much at his reticence.
On a completely different tack, I've noticed that I do a lot of winking. I'm sure I winked about four times during today's ceremony, as I spoke to/about different members of the family. It's a bad habit, and I must break it.
Feeling good - and happy about tomorrow's ceremony too - nice people, I hope it will go well. Just got to get Thursday behind me, and deal with control freak woman on Friday (more to follow), and it will have been a successful week.
How do you judge these things? By the comments you get afterwards? By the number of people who come to shake your hand? By your own gut feel? The comments from the funeral director? Whatever it was, today went well.
The main person I have to thank for that is the wife of the deceased. She had written a piece from her late husband's point of view, which, I'll be honest, I was worried about. Because I'd never met the man, I didn't know if I would give it the right voice, but, bless her, it worked. Folks were laughing through their tears, and it set the right tone for the whole ceremony.
On the way out, she thanked me, and praised the ceremony, as did the deceased's mother (he was a young man, sadly), and various assorted relatives. I got a kiss from the wife's Mum.
There was a man of the cloth in the crowd. That phased me a little to start with, but in the end I just had to do my best. I know that I tripped over a few words and said a poem wrong (didn't carry over a line properly), and I was conscious of his presence then, but the rest of the time, I just made sure I didn't cry, and tried to do a good job.
On the way out, he hesitated before coming to shake my hand. I hope I didn't smile too much at his reticence.
On a completely different tack, I've noticed that I do a lot of winking. I'm sure I winked about four times during today's ceremony, as I spoke to/about different members of the family. It's a bad habit, and I must break it.
Feeling good - and happy about tomorrow's ceremony too - nice people, I hope it will go well. Just got to get Thursday behind me, and deal with control freak woman on Friday (more to follow), and it will have been a successful week.
Sunday 1 June 2008
How Rude!
I know that people are sad and at their most vulnerable, but I'll be honest, I'm getting mightily pee'd off with one of my deceased's family members.
I try to be flexible (I've allowed a hymn, for f's sake), but now I'm being told to re-order my service.
And I do mean told.
The email that came back was a definite "I want....." I was tempted to go back with a favourite phrase of my grandmother's - I want doesn't get - but felt that it may not be appropriate!
To be honest, the re-order isn't a problem, I just didn't like the attitude. Again, I repeat, I know that people are not themselves, which is why I don't react, but I am human too, and wouldn't mind just a bit more respect for the job I'm trying to do here.
Still, stop moaning, after the ceremony, I need never see that person again (I've a feeling that he wouldn't recommend me, as I don't think he likes my style).
I try to be flexible (I've allowed a hymn, for f's sake), but now I'm being told to re-order my service.
And I do mean told.
The email that came back was a definite "I want....." I was tempted to go back with a favourite phrase of my grandmother's - I want doesn't get - but felt that it may not be appropriate!
To be honest, the re-order isn't a problem, I just didn't like the attitude. Again, I repeat, I know that people are not themselves, which is why I don't react, but I am human too, and wouldn't mind just a bit more respect for the job I'm trying to do here.
Still, stop moaning, after the ceremony, I need never see that person again (I've a feeling that he wouldn't recommend me, as I don't think he likes my style).
Thursday 29 May 2008
Compromising myself
Bollocks!
That was the main word going through my head as I drove back from a family visit earlier this week.
I have compromised myself, because I have allowed a hymn to be included in one of my ceremonies. Okay, so the world isn't going to end, but I didn't even put up a fight.
To be honest, I was in a state of shock when I agreed to it, as I'd just found out that the deceased, a little old lady, hadn't died of "old age" or "natural causes" but had decided to take her own life.
For a moment, everything seemed to unimportant, I think I would have agreed to a sermon by the Archbishop of Canterbury!
I'm glad that I hadn't known about the cause of death when I went to the visit, or I would have been a nervous wreck by the time I got there, but I did feel a bit pole-axed when the family told me.
The sad thing is, if it had been the funeral of a 17 year old lad, suicide would have been more tragic, but less surprising. What does that say about our society, I wonder?
However, I have made the decision (well, the mistake) and the hymn will be sung, so all I can do is distance myself from it, explain that it wouldn't normally be included in a humanist ceremony, let them sing to their heart's content and learn from the experience.
I know I shouldn't beat myself up, it was only my fourth family visit, for goodness' sake, but beating myself up is a speciality (and not in a good way....)
That was the main word going through my head as I drove back from a family visit earlier this week.
I have compromised myself, because I have allowed a hymn to be included in one of my ceremonies. Okay, so the world isn't going to end, but I didn't even put up a fight.
To be honest, I was in a state of shock when I agreed to it, as I'd just found out that the deceased, a little old lady, hadn't died of "old age" or "natural causes" but had decided to take her own life.
For a moment, everything seemed to unimportant, I think I would have agreed to a sermon by the Archbishop of Canterbury!
I'm glad that I hadn't known about the cause of death when I went to the visit, or I would have been a nervous wreck by the time I got there, but I did feel a bit pole-axed when the family told me.
The sad thing is, if it had been the funeral of a 17 year old lad, suicide would have been more tragic, but less surprising. What does that say about our society, I wonder?
However, I have made the decision (well, the mistake) and the hymn will be sung, so all I can do is distance myself from it, explain that it wouldn't normally be included in a humanist ceremony, let them sing to their heart's content and learn from the experience.
I know I shouldn't beat myself up, it was only my fourth family visit, for goodness' sake, but beating myself up is a speciality (and not in a good way....)
Monday 26 May 2008
Speaking too quickly
Well, my first two ceremonies are done.
I speaktooquickly.
I think that I was still clear, and that my diction was fine etc, but the first ceremony ended much sooner than I expected.
To be honest, it was a blur afterwards, I only know what I said because it was all written down.
The second one went better. Someone I know was the Funeral Director, and so on the way in he asked for everyone to stand (I forgot!)
X.Piry's top tip du jour:
When you're working at a crematorium for the first time, don't wait until half way through the ceremony before you think "where the **** is the button for the curtains?". This will cause you to run your hands around the lecturn while you're speaking, and generally look suspicious.
I managed to spot said button when I took a step back for the moment's silence.
That was a close one!
However, only my mate the funeral director seemed to have spotted it (I hope!) and the family were pleased with what I'd done, so job's a good 'un.
I speaktooquickly.
I think that I was still clear, and that my diction was fine etc, but the first ceremony ended much sooner than I expected.
To be honest, it was a blur afterwards, I only know what I said because it was all written down.
The second one went better. Someone I know was the Funeral Director, and so on the way in he asked for everyone to stand (I forgot!)
X.Piry's top tip du jour:
When you're working at a crematorium for the first time, don't wait until half way through the ceremony before you think "where the **** is the button for the curtains?". This will cause you to run your hands around the lecturn while you're speaking, and generally look suspicious.
I managed to spot said button when I took a step back for the moment's silence.
That was a close one!
However, only my mate the funeral director seemed to have spotted it (I hope!) and the family were pleased with what I'd done, so job's a good 'un.
Sunday 18 May 2008
First family visits
Well, it's 9 o'clock on a sunday morning, and I've been writing since 7:30, doing the two tributes from my family visits on Friday.
Yes, count 'em, two.
Interesting family dynamics, as I suspected, at the first one. I'd been told some of the negative stuff about the deceased during a phone call with her daughter. None of this came out at the meeting, so I was happy to ignore the bad stuff.
Then, yesterday morning (just as I was about to go out - note to self- use answerphone more) the same daughter rang to tell me tales of depression, marital conflict, family dysfunction and the like. Oh joy, so not only was I late meeting my friend, but I had to listen to someone complaining about her nearest and dearest! I've got family of my own if I want to hear whinging! I've also been left with the problem of what do I put in my script. The tribute should be accurate, but I don't think it hurts to have a few euphemisms. A carefully worded "they went through the ups and downs that all marriages experience" should hopefully be recognisable to all who knew her, without telling the world that they rowed a lot.
My second visit was to a lady who is one of life's philosophers. She's obviously well read and had very kindly written out a precis of her mother's life for me, so I had a lot of material to use for the tribute. I'm convinced that I once worked with the deceased, during a not particularly glittering point in my career (the non-glittering was entirely my own doing, nothing to do with the deceased or her colleagues). I feel happier about this tribute, but conscious that I've only met one of the descendants, and must be careful to include the other.
Between family visits, I popped in to visit the FD I'd previously met (nice lady), and another that I hadn't had dealings with. Timing was on my side, as the funeral arranger had just met a family who wanted a humanist officiant. What a result! So I've got another family visit Tuesday evening.
Bring them on.
Yes, count 'em, two.
Interesting family dynamics, as I suspected, at the first one. I'd been told some of the negative stuff about the deceased during a phone call with her daughter. None of this came out at the meeting, so I was happy to ignore the bad stuff.
Then, yesterday morning (just as I was about to go out - note to self- use answerphone more) the same daughter rang to tell me tales of depression, marital conflict, family dysfunction and the like. Oh joy, so not only was I late meeting my friend, but I had to listen to someone complaining about her nearest and dearest! I've got family of my own if I want to hear whinging! I've also been left with the problem of what do I put in my script. The tribute should be accurate, but I don't think it hurts to have a few euphemisms. A carefully worded "they went through the ups and downs that all marriages experience" should hopefully be recognisable to all who knew her, without telling the world that they rowed a lot.
My second visit was to a lady who is one of life's philosophers. She's obviously well read and had very kindly written out a precis of her mother's life for me, so I had a lot of material to use for the tribute. I'm convinced that I once worked with the deceased, during a not particularly glittering point in my career (the non-glittering was entirely my own doing, nothing to do with the deceased or her colleagues). I feel happier about this tribute, but conscious that I've only met one of the descendants, and must be careful to include the other.
Between family visits, I popped in to visit the FD I'd previously met (nice lady), and another that I hadn't had dealings with. Timing was on my side, as the funeral arranger had just met a family who wanted a humanist officiant. What a result! So I've got another family visit Tuesday evening.
Bring them on.
Monday 12 May 2008
I've got a gig!
One of the FDs I met on Friday has got me a ceremony
I've spoken to the family and it looks like an interesting one (some "challenging" family dynamics, I think).
Rock n Roll!
I've spoken to the family and it looks like an interesting one (some "challenging" family dynamics, I think).
Rock n Roll!
The downs and ups...
My visit with the funeral director went really well. I was perfectly honest about my lack of experience, but gave an example of my written work, and discussed the training, and we sat chatting for nearly two hours. She was a lovely lady, and I was really grateful for her time.
After that, we had a downward slide. I had a message from SWMBO, asking if I'd heard from a particular FD, as there was a ceremony in the offiing. I hadn't heard, and offered to call them, but SWMBO told me to leave it with her.
Unfortunately the family had decided to go with the local registrars (who are also doing non-religious ceremonies - curse them!), and I began to feel very down in the dumps. Something along the lines of (please imagine a whining voice)
"That's it - I'm never going to get any work. How am I supposed to gain any experience if nobody will give me a chance? I know that's not their problem, but what can I do? All I want is to get that first one under my belt..." This went on for some time.
Again, action is better than inaction, so despite it being a blisteringly hot day, I put on the black suit again, and went delivering leaflets.
First I met Tall Guy, a man I've known a little for many years. He was very receptive, but pointed out an obvious - many people, at the last minute, opt for a religious service, just in case they've been wrong all these years (I believe there's something called "Pascal's Wager" I need to look into).
Then I went to the one who had called my mentor the day before. I was conscious that I was being recommended to them, when they'd not even met me, so I went and pressed some flesh there.
Finally, I went to another that my mentor uses, and with whom I share a mutual friend. The arranger there was a nice guy, who said he'd put me forward for the next humanist ceremony - they don't like to rely too heavily on the same celebrants, so this will be my chance to go on their "rota".
I felt a lot better after those visits than I did before, I can tell ya!
After that, we had a downward slide. I had a message from SWMBO, asking if I'd heard from a particular FD, as there was a ceremony in the offiing. I hadn't heard, and offered to call them, but SWMBO told me to leave it with her.
Unfortunately the family had decided to go with the local registrars (who are also doing non-religious ceremonies - curse them!), and I began to feel very down in the dumps. Something along the lines of (please imagine a whining voice)
"That's it - I'm never going to get any work. How am I supposed to gain any experience if nobody will give me a chance? I know that's not their problem, but what can I do? All I want is to get that first one under my belt..." This went on for some time.
Again, action is better than inaction, so despite it being a blisteringly hot day, I put on the black suit again, and went delivering leaflets.
First I met Tall Guy, a man I've known a little for many years. He was very receptive, but pointed out an obvious - many people, at the last minute, opt for a religious service, just in case they've been wrong all these years (I believe there's something called "Pascal's Wager" I need to look into).
Then I went to the one who had called my mentor the day before. I was conscious that I was being recommended to them, when they'd not even met me, so I went and pressed some flesh there.
Finally, I went to another that my mentor uses, and with whom I share a mutual friend. The arranger there was a nice guy, who said he'd put me forward for the next humanist ceremony - they don't like to rely too heavily on the same celebrants, so this will be my chance to go on their "rota".
I felt a lot better after those visits than I did before, I can tell ya!
Tuesday 29 April 2008
Fear and Self-Loathing in Staples
I'm really not comfortable selling myself.
I dread visiting Funeral Directors more than anything. I know, it's crazy, I should be more worried about meeting a family wracked with grief, but when I go to their home, I will have a specific purpose in meeting them, and will hopefully help them deal with their tragedy.
Meeting Funeral Directors to say "hello, I'm here, I'm trained and I'm lovely" causes me tears and heartache like none other. I have self-confidence "issues", and promoting myself is like torture to me.
However it has to be done, so, putting my big brave pants on (as well as my black suit, natch,) I went to visit a local Director after work today. I don't feel it went well. I was in there for about five minutes, and I didn't really sell my personality. I can be chatty (can chat for England, to tell the truth), I can be warm, and I have a sense of humour (so I'm told - mostly I just think I'm a lary tart who can't shut up, but that's the "issue" raising its head again). I was trying so hard to be sensible and mature, that I fear I came across as aloof and stand-offish.
My head was somewhat messed, and so I then drove home like a f-wit. (Apologies to the guy who was helping the lorry to turn, I was insolent, and there's really no need for that).
After my last funeral with SWMBO last week, I went into Staples, the stationery store, to get supplies (business cards, posh paper etc). I love Staples, it's my favourite shop (I have that female stationery-addiction thing) and so I now have a loyalty card for my favourite shop! This was very exciting, but I began to fear that all I was doing was wasting money if I was never to do a ceremony.
Once home today, I tried a ten-minute relaxation technique (which basically involves me sitting in the armchair breathing v e r y s l o w l y), but my head was still racing.
Again, action is better than inaction, so I made another call to another director. This one was enthusiastic! She has had trouble with her funeral celebrants! I'm going to see her on Thursday afternoon!
My faith in myself and my choice of profession has been restored.
I dread visiting Funeral Directors more than anything. I know, it's crazy, I should be more worried about meeting a family wracked with grief, but when I go to their home, I will have a specific purpose in meeting them, and will hopefully help them deal with their tragedy.
Meeting Funeral Directors to say "hello, I'm here, I'm trained and I'm lovely" causes me tears and heartache like none other. I have self-confidence "issues", and promoting myself is like torture to me.
However it has to be done, so, putting my big brave pants on (as well as my black suit, natch,) I went to visit a local Director after work today. I don't feel it went well. I was in there for about five minutes, and I didn't really sell my personality. I can be chatty (can chat for England, to tell the truth), I can be warm, and I have a sense of humour (so I'm told - mostly I just think I'm a lary tart who can't shut up, but that's the "issue" raising its head again). I was trying so hard to be sensible and mature, that I fear I came across as aloof and stand-offish.
My head was somewhat messed, and so I then drove home like a f-wit. (Apologies to the guy who was helping the lorry to turn, I was insolent, and there's really no need for that).
After my last funeral with SWMBO last week, I went into Staples, the stationery store, to get supplies (business cards, posh paper etc). I love Staples, it's my favourite shop (I have that female stationery-addiction thing) and so I now have a loyalty card for my favourite shop! This was very exciting, but I began to fear that all I was doing was wasting money if I was never to do a ceremony.
Once home today, I tried a ten-minute relaxation technique (which basically involves me sitting in the armchair breathing v e r y s l o w l y), but my head was still racing.
Again, action is better than inaction, so I made another call to another director. This one was enthusiastic! She has had trouble with her funeral celebrants! I'm going to see her on Thursday afternoon!
My faith in myself and my choice of profession has been restored.
Monday 21 April 2008
I'm official
I got my letter in the post this morning - I've been approved to conduct ceremonies on my own.
Yippee!!!!!!!!!!!
Now I just have to make nice with Funeral Directors.
Hummmmmm................
Yippee!!!!!!!!!!!
Now I just have to make nice with Funeral Directors.
Hummmmmm................
Sunday 20 April 2008
Ooooohhhhhh!!!!!
There appear to be political machinations at work.
There's been a row, and someone high up locally has resigned his position. Unfortunately, this is all to do with comments on a forum that I can't yet use because I haven't yet reached that stage in my accreditation. My concern is that everything will have been removed by the time I get onto it, and I'll miss out - believe me, I'm not a woman that likes to miss out on anything!
I shall have to chat with SWMBO and try to get more info, but she's got loads of family stuff going on at the moment, so I'll be a bit sensitive to that.
There's been a row, and someone high up locally has resigned his position. Unfortunately, this is all to do with comments on a forum that I can't yet use because I haven't yet reached that stage in my accreditation. My concern is that everything will have been removed by the time I get onto it, and I'll miss out - believe me, I'm not a woman that likes to miss out on anything!
I shall have to chat with SWMBO and try to get more info, but she's got loads of family stuff going on at the moment, so I'll be a bit sensitive to that.
I do occasionally have dark thoughts about all this. I love the work, and admire, in principle, the organisation, but as with all structures there are elements of shit at work.
The celebrant who did my grandfather's funeral in January is not, as I believed at the time, a fully accredited member of the Association, but an independent. Apparently, he'd had a falling out with the Association some time ago, and went out on his own since then. It's not a course of action I would follow willingly. I've always worked in business and so I take a certain amount of comfort in the structure of such institutions. Having been to the local crematorium on Friday, however, and looked at the business cards on the notice board, it would appear that my main competition (God Squad aside) is in the form of a couple of independents.
It is better to have the weight of an organisation behind me, I think - as long as that organisation is strong, and not imploding thanks to the people within it.
Interesting and scary times.
Sunday 30 March 2008
A flurry of activity - Day 2
Day 2 in the residential course house.
X Piry is not feeling so good............
By the afternoon I was feeling a bit hyper, and found it difficult to concentrate.
To use a term common in theatrical parlance, but not necessarily appropriate in funerals; I corpsed.
Our ceremony was for a young woman with small children. One of my colleagues was role playing as a small child. Now, I genuinely believe that a small child saying "I want to go to the toilet" would not throw me. However, to have a mature and elegant woman say it was just too much, and I got the giggles.
However, this was only part one of my inadequacies.
I'd been in charge of the script that four of us were working on, and I'd put some of the pages into the folder in the wrong order. That was a classic schoolboy error, and I felt genuinely ashamed about it. My colleague coped with it brilliantly, and the congregation would never have known, but I still felt absolutely awful.
Add fatigue to this and I was a very grumpy bunny by the time I was coming home.
In conclusion, however, I shouldn't dwell on the negative; we got some very good feedback, and are all moving forward to the next stage. My overall feeling is that it went well, so that's what I should carry with me.
(Famous last words).
X Piry is not feeling so good............
By the afternoon I was feeling a bit hyper, and found it difficult to concentrate.
To use a term common in theatrical parlance, but not necessarily appropriate in funerals; I corpsed.
Our ceremony was for a young woman with small children. One of my colleagues was role playing as a small child. Now, I genuinely believe that a small child saying "I want to go to the toilet" would not throw me. However, to have a mature and elegant woman say it was just too much, and I got the giggles.
However, this was only part one of my inadequacies.
I'd been in charge of the script that four of us were working on, and I'd put some of the pages into the folder in the wrong order. That was a classic schoolboy error, and I felt genuinely ashamed about it. My colleague coped with it brilliantly, and the congregation would never have known, but I still felt absolutely awful.
Add fatigue to this and I was a very grumpy bunny by the time I was coming home.
In conclusion, however, I shouldn't dwell on the negative; we got some very good feedback, and are all moving forward to the next stage. My overall feeling is that it went well, so that's what I should carry with me.
(Famous last words).
Saturday 29 March 2008
A flurry of activity - Day 1
Day One in the Residential Training House................
X. Piry is in the diary room................
Day 1
I'm a bit knackered, and we've only done 6 hours training!
Started at noon, and it's gone pretty well. I haven't done much since the last session, especially in comparison with a number of my colleagues, who've been attending ceremonies left right and centre.
We covered a lot of practical stuff today; record-keeping, music selection, a walk through of the ceremony, that sort of stuff. I am much more at home with practical than theory, and as soon as they mentioned the magic word "spreadsheet" I knew I'd be okay.
Then we worked out who was doing what in the presentation tomorrow, and decided what to do with our script. I think it's one of those "oh, that'll do" things, when we worry more about delivery and volume (I know I speak too quickly, and must learn to slow it down). However, you can bet your life that tomorrow we'll get feedback and say "oh, we wish we'd spent more time on the script", but that's the way it goes.
Let's just hope for a dry half hour when we come to do our outdoor burial bit.
The hotel is quite nice, although the rooms are across the road from the main bit of the hotel, so we got a bit wet when we booked in earlier. So much for my lovely blow-dried bob this morning!
But enough of this nonsense. I need a shower and to iron my clothes for tomorrow.
X. Piry is in the diary room................
Day 1
I'm a bit knackered, and we've only done 6 hours training!
Started at noon, and it's gone pretty well. I haven't done much since the last session, especially in comparison with a number of my colleagues, who've been attending ceremonies left right and centre.
We covered a lot of practical stuff today; record-keeping, music selection, a walk through of the ceremony, that sort of stuff. I am much more at home with practical than theory, and as soon as they mentioned the magic word "spreadsheet" I knew I'd be okay.
Then we worked out who was doing what in the presentation tomorrow, and decided what to do with our script. I think it's one of those "oh, that'll do" things, when we worry more about delivery and volume (I know I speak too quickly, and must learn to slow it down). However, you can bet your life that tomorrow we'll get feedback and say "oh, we wish we'd spent more time on the script", but that's the way it goes.
Let's just hope for a dry half hour when we come to do our outdoor burial bit.
The hotel is quite nice, although the rooms are across the road from the main bit of the hotel, so we got a bit wet when we booked in earlier. So much for my lovely blow-dried bob this morning!
But enough of this nonsense. I need a shower and to iron my clothes for tomorrow.
Saturday 8 March 2008
Spots and philosophy
I've never been a great one for skincare. Marian Keyes reckons that there are two types of women; those who love shoes, and those of love cosmetics. Well, sorry Marian, but I fall into a third category; those who don't give a monkeys.
Obviously, this means that I look absolutely gorgeous at all times.
However, I am going to have to start taking a bit more care of my appearance, and a huge spot on the corner of my mouth has brought this home to me.
For my own part, I still don't care much - spot, schmot say I. But, if I were standing up at the local crematorium today, looking like I've done ten rounds with Ricky Hatton, saying "we are now here to celebrate the life of....." would I be portraying quite the image that the family are looking for?
Superdrug, here I come.
When I had my feedback from the first training session, it was recommended that I read up a bit on the philosophical side of Humanism. Being a good girl, I got myself onto Amazon and ordered a load of books.
I am usually a happy reader. I normally try to read at least two books per month, alternating between fiction and non-fiction. Not this month! This is slow old stuff to read. I realise that philosophy is meant to be read slowly and digested, but bugger me, when you get to the bottom of the page, and realise that you need to start at the top again, because you drifted off into "what shall I cook for dinner tonight", then these books are not going to be finished quickly.
My original plan was to read through them all in one hit, but I think that when I've finished the current tome, I'm going to have to go for something with a pink cover, and a title like "love's a bastard, but not in the end" to clear the brain.
Obviously, this means that I look absolutely gorgeous at all times.
However, I am going to have to start taking a bit more care of my appearance, and a huge spot on the corner of my mouth has brought this home to me.
For my own part, I still don't care much - spot, schmot say I. But, if I were standing up at the local crematorium today, looking like I've done ten rounds with Ricky Hatton, saying "we are now here to celebrate the life of....." would I be portraying quite the image that the family are looking for?
Superdrug, here I come.
When I had my feedback from the first training session, it was recommended that I read up a bit on the philosophical side of Humanism. Being a good girl, I got myself onto Amazon and ordered a load of books.
I am usually a happy reader. I normally try to read at least two books per month, alternating between fiction and non-fiction. Not this month! This is slow old stuff to read. I realise that philosophy is meant to be read slowly and digested, but bugger me, when you get to the bottom of the page, and realise that you need to start at the top again, because you drifted off into "what shall I cook for dinner tonight", then these books are not going to be finished quickly.
My original plan was to read through them all in one hit, but I think that when I've finished the current tome, I'm going to have to go for something with a pink cover, and a title like "love's a bastard, but not in the end" to clear the brain.
Tuesday 4 March 2008
Critique and self-doubt.
"All feedback gratefully received." That's what I always say. Of course, what I actually mean is "please love me, and don't criticise, or I'll cry".
I say all this because SWMBO gave me feedback on my second script. She gave me a lot of constructive advice on how to make it better, but I wanted it to be good enough already!
I know, unrealistic expectations of self have always been a problem; it is, after all, only my second script, and so I have things to learn. But it still hurt.
I hope that I was positive and polite when I spoke to her (even if she HATED my choice of poem for the committal), and I could see that all of her suggestions were right, but I felt a bit flat afterwards.
I've swapped scripts with other members of the group, or rather, I embraced the idea, sent my work out to 5 people, and only one has replied and I spent ages frightened to read her work, in case it was brilliant. It is very good, but not to the point where I'm intimidated.
In the final part of training, a group of us work together on a script, and I'm already convinced that none of my contributions will be used, as everyone else will be better than me.
But I have a lifelong habit of worrying about things that haven't happened yet, so perhaps I should just take a breath, calm down and do my homework!
I say all this because SWMBO gave me feedback on my second script. She gave me a lot of constructive advice on how to make it better, but I wanted it to be good enough already!
I know, unrealistic expectations of self have always been a problem; it is, after all, only my second script, and so I have things to learn. But it still hurt.
I hope that I was positive and polite when I spoke to her (even if she HATED my choice of poem for the committal), and I could see that all of her suggestions were right, but I felt a bit flat afterwards.
I've swapped scripts with other members of the group, or rather, I embraced the idea, sent my work out to 5 people, and only one has replied and I spent ages frightened to read her work, in case it was brilliant. It is very good, but not to the point where I'm intimidated.
In the final part of training, a group of us work together on a script, and I'm already convinced that none of my contributions will be used, as everyone else will be better than me.
But I have a lifelong habit of worrying about things that haven't happened yet, so perhaps I should just take a breath, calm down and do my homework!
Sunday 24 February 2008
A lousy correspondent
Training last week, and I didn't even write about it (well, I was absolutely cream crackered).
The 2nd training was more relaxed (the guy I thought was a bit "self-rectal" the first time seemed a lot more human - I don't know if he'd mellowed or I had), but it did feel a bit chaotic. I know that seems like a contradiction , what I mean is that the students were more confident, but that the trainers were trying to cram so much in that we were fighting the clock the whole time.
There was only one part where I knew I'd done badly, and for two reasons.
We were role-playing a scenario, enacting a family visit with a woman whose son had killed himself, and our brief was to find out the cause of death.
Self criticism no 1 - I could hear myself asking closed rather than open questions - must get out of that habit RIGHT now!
Self criticism no 2 - The trainer playing the bereaved mother was in denial about the death (unsure if it was deliberate or not), and so we were getting inconclusive answers. I just turned to a fellow student and said "I've gone blank". Obviously, that is a Very Bad Thing, but I would like to think that in a real situation I would behave differently, for two reasons.
Firstly, if the mother didn't know or didn't want to share the cause of death, I would leave it out of the ceremony.
Secondly, if I was drawing a blank from the family, I would ask about something else entirely (what did the deceased do for a living, favourite music, anything) and move on, perhaps coming back to the cause of death later, once more trust had been established.
However, I've been invited back for part 3 of the training, and so it couldn't have counted against me too much.
I've not had any ceremonies for ages, so I've had to go to work (boo) and rack up spare hours for when they're needed. If I get too many, I might just take some time off anyway.
The 2nd training was more relaxed (the guy I thought was a bit "self-rectal" the first time seemed a lot more human - I don't know if he'd mellowed or I had), but it did feel a bit chaotic. I know that seems like a contradiction , what I mean is that the students were more confident, but that the trainers were trying to cram so much in that we were fighting the clock the whole time.
There was only one part where I knew I'd done badly, and for two reasons.
We were role-playing a scenario, enacting a family visit with a woman whose son had killed himself, and our brief was to find out the cause of death.
Self criticism no 1 - I could hear myself asking closed rather than open questions - must get out of that habit RIGHT now!
Self criticism no 2 - The trainer playing the bereaved mother was in denial about the death (unsure if it was deliberate or not), and so we were getting inconclusive answers. I just turned to a fellow student and said "I've gone blank". Obviously, that is a Very Bad Thing, but I would like to think that in a real situation I would behave differently, for two reasons.
Firstly, if the mother didn't know or didn't want to share the cause of death, I would leave it out of the ceremony.
Secondly, if I was drawing a blank from the family, I would ask about something else entirely (what did the deceased do for a living, favourite music, anything) and move on, perhaps coming back to the cause of death later, once more trust had been established.
However, I've been invited back for part 3 of the training, and so it couldn't have counted against me too much.
I've not had any ceremonies for ages, so I've had to go to work (boo) and rack up spare hours for when they're needed. If I get too many, I might just take some time off anyway.
Thursday 7 February 2008
More feedback, and another funeral
Another week, another cremation.
I got feedback from NG (my trainer) on my first script. He made several useful comments, and some that I found entertaining. This was because he had criticised one or two things which were straight lifts from my mentor's scripts.
NG is a bit of an evangelical humanist, whereas I think I'm more liberal, so there are bound to be differences, but he summed it up as "not a bad stab at it", which I took to be a complement.
There was also the problem of the family for this particular script. I'm surprised that they could even agree that the bloke had died, because they couldn't agree on anything else! Still, NG's not to know that, so he made comments about "should have got more here" (none of the music had been decided when I sent the script to him, but one piece was changed on the day of the ceremony). Therefore, he doesn't know if I didn't have everything because it wasn't given, or because I'm not good at listening, getting info etc.
Generally, the feedback was useful, however, and I don't want to seem as though I'm making excuses.
So then we came to the funeral yesterday of the elderly lady. The family are lovely, and when the deceased's daughter said hello to me when they arrived, I said what I always say: "All right?"
No, she probably wasn't, as she had just arrived for the funeral of her mother.
I must teach myself simply to say "hello". It's kinda established in the language, it really shouldn't be too much of a shock.
I met one of the funeral directors yesterday, and when he shook my hand he leaned forward and said, very quietly, "welcome to the show". To me that summed it up beautifully. A good funeral is dignified and respectful theatre.
Bring on the next performance.
I got feedback from NG (my trainer) on my first script. He made several useful comments, and some that I found entertaining. This was because he had criticised one or two things which were straight lifts from my mentor's scripts.
NG is a bit of an evangelical humanist, whereas I think I'm more liberal, so there are bound to be differences, but he summed it up as "not a bad stab at it", which I took to be a complement.
There was also the problem of the family for this particular script. I'm surprised that they could even agree that the bloke had died, because they couldn't agree on anything else! Still, NG's not to know that, so he made comments about "should have got more here" (none of the music had been decided when I sent the script to him, but one piece was changed on the day of the ceremony). Therefore, he doesn't know if I didn't have everything because it wasn't given, or because I'm not good at listening, getting info etc.
Generally, the feedback was useful, however, and I don't want to seem as though I'm making excuses.
So then we came to the funeral yesterday of the elderly lady. The family are lovely, and when the deceased's daughter said hello to me when they arrived, I said what I always say: "All right?"
No, she probably wasn't, as she had just arrived for the funeral of her mother.
I must teach myself simply to say "hello". It's kinda established in the language, it really shouldn't be too much of a shock.
I met one of the funeral directors yesterday, and when he shook my hand he leaned forward and said, very quietly, "welcome to the show". To me that summed it up beautifully. A good funeral is dignified and respectful theatre.
Bring on the next performance.
Sunday 3 February 2008
Poetry and feedback.
I feel that it's about time I got organised (famous last words), and so I've printed off all of the funeral poems I've collated so far, and put them into a folder, with an index of first lines.
I was quite impressed with what I'd collected but, major note to self - think before you print!
I thought 5 copies of each would be about right (to hand out as needed). That is fine, but when you've got nearly 50 of the buggers, and they are to go into plastic punched pockets (oh my, I do love my stationery!) they struggle to fit into the ring binder set aside for this purpose (a purple holographic one).
Plus, some of them are beautiful, but a bit on the religious side, so are inappropriate for a non-religious ceremony. Many are complete sentimental rubbish - but that doesn't mean that the good folks won't love 'em. I daresay I'll have to listen to a lot of Boyzone and Celine Dion as I make my way through this career too!
However, I can always do a bit of judicious filtering, and leave the god-squad ones in a less shiny binder at home.
On a more positive note, I got some very good feedback from SWMBO from my first script. She gave some very practical tips (number pages, put a deep margin at the bottom so that you don't end up talking to your feet -that kind of thing), as well as suggesting some changes, but her general comment was that although it could be improved, she didn't feel that a family would be unhappy with that ceremony, as written.
I'm a happy bunny!
I was quite impressed with what I'd collected but, major note to self - think before you print!
I thought 5 copies of each would be about right (to hand out as needed). That is fine, but when you've got nearly 50 of the buggers, and they are to go into plastic punched pockets (oh my, I do love my stationery!) they struggle to fit into the ring binder set aside for this purpose (a purple holographic one).
Plus, some of them are beautiful, but a bit on the religious side, so are inappropriate for a non-religious ceremony. Many are complete sentimental rubbish - but that doesn't mean that the good folks won't love 'em. I daresay I'll have to listen to a lot of Boyzone and Celine Dion as I make my way through this career too!
However, I can always do a bit of judicious filtering, and leave the god-squad ones in a less shiny binder at home.
On a more positive note, I got some very good feedback from SWMBO from my first script. She gave some very practical tips (number pages, put a deep margin at the bottom so that you don't end up talking to your feet -that kind of thing), as well as suggesting some changes, but her general comment was that although it could be improved, she didn't feel that a family would be unhappy with that ceremony, as written.
I'm a happy bunny!
Saturday 26 January 2008
Busy!
So there I was, thinking that I was going to have to re-write my Grandfather's funeral script for my homework exercise, and it's all gone mad!
Thursday was my second gatecrash, and my first ever burial. It went really well, and lots of people complemented my mentor on the service.
Then on Friday (yesterday) I had my first family visit. I thought that SWMBO had already told them I was coming, but she'd not had the chance, so I did feel that I was "doorstepping" them a bit, but they were terribly nice about it, and made tea and everything.
At the moment the good folks are shocked, fairly angry, and still looking for some answers from the health care professionals, so it wasn't a particularly teary visit, which from a purely selfish point of view was probably a good thing for my first one.
I can understand the frustration of wanting to know answers, but one of the family members said "we just want to know that we did everything that we could." I nodded politely, but wondered about this. In the unlikely event that somebody told them that they could have done more, how will that leave them feeling? Death leaves unanswered questions, and I'm not going to pretend I'm all zen about it, and happy to accept, but the danger with asking questions is in finding the answers. Can you cope with them being what you don't want to hear? Sometimes ignorance is bliss after all.
But anyhoo, I wrote pages of notes, and have spent this afternoon typing my script. It's too long (by at least 500 words), but I'm going to leave it overnight and then edit it down tomorrow, as well as read it aloud to myself (I've already warned DH that this could happen, so that he doesn't think I've gone completely mad) to check the timing.
While I was putting this together this avo, SWMBO rang to say that there was another family meeting on Monday, about 20 miles away from where I live, so for the third day running I'm going to have to leave work early. I'll explain it all to my boss on Monday morning, and I'm sure she'll be okay with it, but my absences are becoming a bit obvious.
Actually, Monday might become interesting for another reason. Friday's are mufti days at our office, and so I wore my jeans to work, but then nipped into the ladies as I left, and changed into a skirt etc. On my way out, one of my colleagues was coming back from lunch. I saw her look my up and down, and I feel that she's a person who likes to know what's going on, and is not averse to being indiscreet in her curiosity. I wonder how many people will think I was going for an interview!
This is the problem with having to keep my flexible hours a bit discreet, otherwise I'd just tell everybody, and that would be it. Still, we'll see what the next few weeks brings!
Thursday was my second gatecrash, and my first ever burial. It went really well, and lots of people complemented my mentor on the service.
Then on Friday (yesterday) I had my first family visit. I thought that SWMBO had already told them I was coming, but she'd not had the chance, so I did feel that I was "doorstepping" them a bit, but they were terribly nice about it, and made tea and everything.
At the moment the good folks are shocked, fairly angry, and still looking for some answers from the health care professionals, so it wasn't a particularly teary visit, which from a purely selfish point of view was probably a good thing for my first one.
I can understand the frustration of wanting to know answers, but one of the family members said "we just want to know that we did everything that we could." I nodded politely, but wondered about this. In the unlikely event that somebody told them that they could have done more, how will that leave them feeling? Death leaves unanswered questions, and I'm not going to pretend I'm all zen about it, and happy to accept, but the danger with asking questions is in finding the answers. Can you cope with them being what you don't want to hear? Sometimes ignorance is bliss after all.
But anyhoo, I wrote pages of notes, and have spent this afternoon typing my script. It's too long (by at least 500 words), but I'm going to leave it overnight and then edit it down tomorrow, as well as read it aloud to myself (I've already warned DH that this could happen, so that he doesn't think I've gone completely mad) to check the timing.
While I was putting this together this avo, SWMBO rang to say that there was another family meeting on Monday, about 20 miles away from where I live, so for the third day running I'm going to have to leave work early. I'll explain it all to my boss on Monday morning, and I'm sure she'll be okay with it, but my absences are becoming a bit obvious.
Actually, Monday might become interesting for another reason. Friday's are mufti days at our office, and so I wore my jeans to work, but then nipped into the ladies as I left, and changed into a skirt etc. On my way out, one of my colleagues was coming back from lunch. I saw her look my up and down, and I feel that she's a person who likes to know what's going on, and is not averse to being indiscreet in her curiosity. I wonder how many people will think I was going for an interview!
This is the problem with having to keep my flexible hours a bit discreet, otherwise I'd just tell everybody, and that would be it. Still, we'll see what the next few weeks brings!
Saturday 19 January 2008
My first gatecrash
I went to the first funeral with my mentor yesterday.
It was a good service - I was very impressed with my mentor's range of quotes and sayings. She's posh anyway, but has clearly benefited from a classical education.
The service went well, I had one moment when I thought I might get a bit choked up (my biggest fear with all of this), but that was watching a brief exchange between a man who'd just delivered a eulogy, and his wife - as an officiant, I would be preparing for the next part, and not notice this.
On a personal level, I felt incredibly self-conscious. As I was all in black, I hoped that I would be mistaken for an employee of the Funeral Director, but it was uncomfortable, feeling that I had no right to be there.
It was a civilised service - there was some weeping, but everyone there seemed to be respecting the dignity of the service.
As for me? I've got a lot of research to do. Google, here I come.
It was a good service - I was very impressed with my mentor's range of quotes and sayings. She's posh anyway, but has clearly benefited from a classical education.
The service went well, I had one moment when I thought I might get a bit choked up (my biggest fear with all of this), but that was watching a brief exchange between a man who'd just delivered a eulogy, and his wife - as an officiant, I would be preparing for the next part, and not notice this.
On a personal level, I felt incredibly self-conscious. As I was all in black, I hoped that I would be mistaken for an employee of the Funeral Director, but it was uncomfortable, feeling that I had no right to be there.
It was a civilised service - there was some weeping, but everyone there seemed to be respecting the dignity of the service.
As for me? I've got a lot of research to do. Google, here I come.
Friday 18 January 2008
Swearing - contains strong language
I've been thinking a lot about swearing, which I do far too often (I know, it's not big or clever, but we all need a vent).
Most of my exclamations seem to be of the "for christ's sake!" variety, but I feel that I need to get out of this habit, in my role as a humanist.
However, if I get away from religious swearing, that only leaves sexual references ("oh fuck!", or the C-word that even I baulk at), or bodily functions or parts (shit, arsehole, or my particular favourite - bollocks). These seem somehow stronger (perhaps a sign of how society is moving away from religion, and is therefore less likely to be offended by religious references), and more distasteful.
I know, I know, I should be more socially acceptable (ie, it's not "complete bollocks", it's "utter rubbish", or "oh no" instead of "shit!", but it makes an interesting topic, don't you think?
If the celebrant thing doesn't work out, I think I might see if there's a university somewhere that needs research done on swearing in the English language.
Most of my exclamations seem to be of the "for christ's sake!" variety, but I feel that I need to get out of this habit, in my role as a humanist.
However, if I get away from religious swearing, that only leaves sexual references ("oh fuck!", or the C-word that even I baulk at), or bodily functions or parts (shit, arsehole, or my particular favourite - bollocks). These seem somehow stronger (perhaps a sign of how society is moving away from religion, and is therefore less likely to be offended by religious references), and more distasteful.
I know, I know, I should be more socially acceptable (ie, it's not "complete bollocks", it's "utter rubbish", or "oh no" instead of "shit!", but it makes an interesting topic, don't you think?
If the celebrant thing doesn't work out, I think I might see if there's a university somewhere that needs research done on swearing in the English language.
Thursday 17 January 2008
I love my boss
Now how often do you hear that?
The reason why I love my boss is that she's being very accommodating, and allowing a reduction in my hours.
This means I can keep a regular income, and still burn people.
Fab!
The reason why I love my boss is that she's being very accommodating, and allowing a reduction in my hours.
This means I can keep a regular income, and still burn people.
Fab!
Sunday 13 January 2008
First Session - Knackered
Well,
My induction/assessment day was yesterday, and it was great.
I came away feeling really motivated and inspired. It was a generally lovely group of people - we had a VERY high proportion of lapsed catholics, and one chap who I thought was likely to get on my nerves (a bit too far up his own behind, if you ask me), but mostly pleasant, intelligent articulate people.
It was interesting that we all had something in common (our humanist belief) while still being very different. This came to light when we discussed "what would happen if you were putting together a ceremony, and someone was adamant that they wanted the lord's prayer?" We had a range of answers, from "okay, but someone else will have to lead that bit" to "no, this is a non-religious ceremony" (the latter having a very strong hint of "sod off" about it).
We've got homework to do. I've never been big on poetry (more of a chick lit girl myself), but I must study, investigate, and progress, as well as get back in touch with my mentor to attend some services and family visits.
Right now, though, I want to sleep!
My induction/assessment day was yesterday, and it was great.
I came away feeling really motivated and inspired. It was a generally lovely group of people - we had a VERY high proportion of lapsed catholics, and one chap who I thought was likely to get on my nerves (a bit too far up his own behind, if you ask me), but mostly pleasant, intelligent articulate people.
It was interesting that we all had something in common (our humanist belief) while still being very different. This came to light when we discussed "what would happen if you were putting together a ceremony, and someone was adamant that they wanted the lord's prayer?" We had a range of answers, from "okay, but someone else will have to lead that bit" to "no, this is a non-religious ceremony" (the latter having a very strong hint of "sod off" about it).
We've got homework to do. I've never been big on poetry (more of a chick lit girl myself), but I must study, investigate, and progress, as well as get back in touch with my mentor to attend some services and family visits.
Right now, though, I want to sleep!
Saturday 5 January 2008
Intro
Hi,
I'm X.Piry - a trainee funeral officiant.
After a brief mid-life crisis (my mother died, then I hit 40, then a good friend's husband died) during which I pondered the futility of the heady world of business finance (my occupation of choice for the last 15 years) I woke up with the feeling that I would like to become a funeral officiant, conducting non-religious ceremonies.
I've never believed in God, but I do try to believe in people.
So, here we are - I attend my first course next Saturday. I have a mentor, who is lovely, but possibly the poshest lady in the world, and I'm trying to work out when I tell my boss that I'm giving up the dynamic world of finance, for the world of the dead. After I get my bonus for 2007 is the most obvious answer, but once that's sorted, there's some negotiating to be doing!
Wish me luck - it's all a bit scary.
I'm X.Piry - a trainee funeral officiant.
After a brief mid-life crisis (my mother died, then I hit 40, then a good friend's husband died) during which I pondered the futility of the heady world of business finance (my occupation of choice for the last 15 years) I woke up with the feeling that I would like to become a funeral officiant, conducting non-religious ceremonies.
I've never believed in God, but I do try to believe in people.
So, here we are - I attend my first course next Saturday. I have a mentor, who is lovely, but possibly the poshest lady in the world, and I'm trying to work out when I tell my boss that I'm giving up the dynamic world of finance, for the world of the dead. After I get my bonus for 2007 is the most obvious answer, but once that's sorted, there's some negotiating to be doing!
Wish me luck - it's all a bit scary.
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