Monday 23 August 2010

(Not so) silly season

It's quiet out there, too quiet.....

Yes, it's that time of year when the funeral directors have time to sit and chat (as it gives them a break from their filing and cleaning), and we watch our workload drop for the summer.

In some ways, it's a "breathing space" a chance to clear our heads ready for the next nasty cold snap.

In my limited experience, however, I've found that these things are self-balancing. There are not so many deaths, but those that do occur make for harder funerals. This week, I have a ceremony for a young lady in her thirties. It's a while since I've experienced that much tangible grief while visiting her family. I want to lessen their pain, but that is not something I am able to do or, frankly, have the right to do. Their grief is their own - I just have to hope that I can make them feel listened to and cared about.

And then, last week, I had a phone call. "You did Ethel Sludgebucket's funeral at Seatown a couple of months ago?"
"Yes I did."
"I was there, I thought it was very good."
"Thank you."
"It's just that my son died yesterday....."


I speak to my father every day. I started doing this after my Mum died to check that he was okay (I live a little distance away) and to make sure that he spoke to somebody every twenty four hours. As it turns out, he has a very full social calendar (we call the road where he lives his "harem") and talks to more people than I do. But he is a very good listener. I share these experiences with him, and he makes all the right noises.

I hope that all celebrants/ministers/officiants have someone like this. They make our job much easier, especially during the not so silly season.

4 comments:

gloriamundi said...

It's quieter at Mundi Mansions too, XP, though sudden little surges and quiet spells within that. You make a good point which I hadn't realised (the nicely matured brain also has its down-side..) which is that if seasonal fluctuations largely affect the elderly and ancient, what stands out more during balmier months are the more distressing events for younger people. I've had two on the trot. I shall post about one of them soon.

My partner provides some of the high-quality ear and damp shoulder stuff, though I try to be sparing because it doesn't seem quite fair to be inviting the Grim Reaper to tea too often (well, not Himself, but at least his shadow.He Himself is a disgusting old ruffian who slurps his tea out his saucer, scoffs all the Victoria sponge and and doesn't know the difference between Broken Orange Pekoe and Typhoo,but since he never waits to be invited, that's one issue less.)

X. Piry said...

Thanks Gloria.

Sorry that you're experiencing a greater proportion of the "tragic" ones. But I'm also glad that you have a good shoulder to cry on.

I too have a partner who is absolutely brilliant to talk to, but that's because he's learnt, over many years, not to listen to a word I say!

Keep smiling (and don't think me a bad person, but I'd rather have the typhoo).

Charles Cowling said...

It can be a terrible burden for a partner having to listen to all this when all they want to do is recreate. Here we remember that, while we love to talk about death, most people absolutely don't! We are odd in this way. A sympathetic partner who has acquired the art of deafness may well be ideal. I always enjoyed sitting down with the FD afterwards, back at the ranch. The good ones really cared and were great, and I used to drive home feeling expended.

Lapsang for me. Two thirds Yorkshire, one third Lapsang. Refreshing. Invigorating. Terrific if you had the glass too far the night before. Try it! Otherwise, I'm all for a spot of Orange Pekoe, but I insist on the extra tippy!

gloriamundi said...

Thanks for the recipe, Charles - sounds like a real bracer! And XP, typhoo is fine, but you know the difference, whereas the Ruffian would wash his socks in Chateaux Lafite and toast our deaths in horse piss!

Maybe our blogs have some function in enabling us to carry on droning on about death, working out our ideas, getting a bit of very welcome feedback. Because It is so addictively interesting. Friends, I find, sometimes want to talk about this work - more often just the surface of it, not great metaphysical questions, as with most chats I guess - but sometimes they really really don't. I am learning to tell the difference. I think...