More tears, short notice and a trigger word

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.

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.

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.