A strange situation for the godless among us.

I used to work with a lady, whom we’ll call Margaret, who has recently died. Back when I started this game, she had already been unwell but, at that stage, was going through a good patch. She and I were discussing my change of path, and she said to me “well, the thing is, I believe in god”, which was fine with me.

A few months ago, she came along to the ceremony I conducted for another lady we used to work with (I think our office may have “sick building syndrome” – I’m certainly sick of going there), which Margaret thorough enjoyed, and apparently told everyone about.

Sadly, Margaret has now shuffled off this mortal coil, which is terribly sad; she’s only in her 50s. Her children (who we’ll call Jenny and Jemima) want me to do the service. So far so good, BUT, because of her religious faith, it’s happening in a local church.

That’s fine, I thought, I’ll just stand up in my usual “gob on a stick” fashion and delivery a eulogy. However, Jemima wants me to pretty much run the ceremony, with the vicar just adding a few prayers. I was okay with this, but didn't know if the vicar would be. Of course, he has concerns.

I have tried to reassure him that I’m not going to talk about anything but Margaret; that I’m not there to talk about humanism, or to be controversial, but he wants to make sure that any service in his church has the right tone, and delivers the Christian message. I completely understand his point of view, it’s the same reason that I don’t deliver prayers in my ceremonies.

That’s the latest so far – he’s yet to meet Jemima and Jenny, so I just gave them a quick call saying that I may not be able to run as much of it as they wanted. However, the things that they wanted to happen (songs to be played etc) can still be done with the Revd introducing them, rather than me. Jemima seemed a bit disappointed, but I’m hoping that once she and Jenny have spoken to the vicar, all will be well.

There was a slight comedy moment, which I rose above, while talking to the vicar. He was saying that he wanted to get across the Christian message “which is a powerful message, whatever your issues with it”. I didn’t bite. I don’t have issues with his faith; I simply don’t share it.

The Revd seems to be a perfectly nice and reasonable man, so I’m sure that it will all be sorted out to everyone’s satisfaction. On a purely personal level, I just hope I get through whatever I do without breaking down. It’s going to be a tough day.

Updates to follow when I have them.





On a completely separate note, I think I must have lived a very sheltered life.

I visited the family recently of a man who had died. I was talking to his wife about him and she said "He was a good husband - he never laid a finger on me." Is that really the only criterion?

Just chillin'

It's one o'clock in the morning, I've done two family visits this evening and I've written up both tributes. I'm a bit too awake to go to bed, but getting weary now.

The two visits were quite a contrast and every now and again it does me good to remind me of the variety of the human condition. Neither deaths was expected, but the first gentleman was in his 80s and had been ill for some time. He was expected to die soon, but not then. The visit was calm, gentle and straightforward. I hope that we give him a calm and dignified goodbye.

The second man was more than 20 years younger than the first and, to everyone's understanding, as fit as a robber's dog. But he collapsed and was dead before he hit the ground. I don't know the cause of death, and yes, I could have asked, but it would make no difference to the celebration of his life and I see no value in upsetting the family even more for the sake of my curiousity. That's a question I leave for the undertaker.

It wasn't until I started doing this job that I realised just how tangible emotions can be. I realise it sounds as though I'm talking nonsense, but I could feel the rawness of everyone's grief at the second meeting. We had very few tears, but I think that's as much to do with shock as anything else. I try to remain business-like, calm and professional (as well as gentle, kind and sympathetic) but I find myself unwilling to ask too many questions for fear of further adding to their anxiety.

There were quite a few family members in the room, which helped, as the "do you remember when..." stories bounced off each other well.

It was a relatively short meeting; I'd got enough information to put together what, I hope, is the best tribute to the deceased, and I didn't want to intrude on their grief any further.

Goodnight, sleep tight........