A little lesson in humility

We've all been there.

The ceremony has gone well. The speakers have made heartfelt tributes and the whole thing has flowed beautifully.

On the way out of the flower terrace, every other person has stopped to shake my hand and praise my words, my voice, the way that I put things together.

I'm getting used to this enormous massage to my ego, when another mourner comes towards me with a determined look on his face.

I glance up with a mixture of modesty, sympathy and interest (a look that I've been working on), as he says:

"Is there a toilet here?"

And thus my true role in the proceedings is brought back to me.

Another of those people who do me good.

I'm not a violent woman, but...

...some people are so ..... annoying.


Take the latest.... individual.

* In the preparation of the ceremony, every time the chief mourner decided upon something, he wanted to change it.
* Thanks to him, the funeral started late.
* He delivered a eulogy in which every sentence began with "I".
* He overran his allotted time (I had to cut him short in the end), by adding in historical details and alluding to skeletons in cupboards which were probably best left untouched.
* And then, oh joys, he said that he didn't know the deceased that well because he thought that he would die first, and so the eulogies would be delivered the other way around. (So the only reason to show interest in another person is to speak about them at their funeral? )


Since the thing has been over, I've had a message from him discussing our "joint presentation" (no dear, I was a gob on a stick and you were a speaker, we did not do a "joint presentation" - that would suggest collaberative co-operation and you were not co-operative) and suggesting that I was a little presumptuous in only alloting him a specified amount of time for his eulogy. The time frame was my client's instructions and if this person had spoken about the deceased, rather than himself, it would not have been an issue.


Of course, the man is grieving (but from all of the evidence, I don't think his relationship with the deceased was a close one).

And, as always, family relationships are complicated. This leads people to behave in ways which puts them into (as they see it) positions of importance.


But still I want to hit this person very hard.

So, I have a strategy. When someone is behaving like this, I wheel out the "academic research" theory. My only way of explaining these people is to assume that they are doing a piece of academic research to work out just how irritating they have to be before someone bitch-slaps them up the side of the head. There is no other reasonable explanation for such annoying, demanding and frustrating behaviour. And with this thought in my mind, I smile sweetly, carry on as if they are being perfectly reasonable, and add myself to their research data.

Yes, I realise it's nonsense, but it gets me through the day!



Love to all.

A little funny story....

One of the many humbling things about this job is how much we learn about reslience and forgiveness.


People go through the most horrendous of experiences and yet can come through without resentment or hostility.


Take, for example, a gentleman whose long, full, principled life has come to an end. A few years ago, he was in a hotel bar when he met a couple of Germans. The conversation went like this.



"I lived in Germany for a a few years."



"Really? Where did you live?"



"Stalag XX-B"



You gotta love people like that.

The things that do us good

Regular readers (thank you!) will know that I greatly fear complacency. Every ceremony should have the balance between experience (knowing where the buttons are, being able to calmly lead if needed) and that feeling that this is the first funeral.



After all, for the deceased, it is.



Being the sort of person who likes to keep files containing great phrases that I've picked up along the way, I am well aware that, if necessary, I could knock a ceremony together (excluding the tribute) in twenty minutes, just cutting and pasting. However, I am also well aware that the day I do, is the day that I should hang up by black suit and go back to fannying around with spreadsheets.



So again, how do we get the balance right?



I've been through a couple of similar experiences which, I hope, have kept the words fresh.



Firstly, I was mentoring a new celebrant. Just knowing that I was sending them every funeral that I wrote was enough for me to stop and think about repetition. After all, the family may not have heard it before, but if the (then) trainee had, it made me question if it was right for that family, that "loved one", that situation.



On a similar vein, I have a funeral director who uses me quite regularly (and we love him for that!) and he makes a point of sitting in on every ceremony. Not for him the crafty fag, or the twenty minute opportunity to catch up on phone calls. No, he sits there, keeping an eye on the congregation and making sure that everything is going fine. (It won't surprise readers to know that this is another of Charles's recommended funeral directors)



I don't pretend that he listens to every word that I say, but that fact that he could, is a good discipline for me. It makes me look for those new words, innovative turns of phrase, interesting ways of tying in those "thoughts on life and death" to the family in question.



And for this, I thank him.



There may be people reading this who are horrified. Well, folks, stuff does get re-used. Lots of people want the Joyce Grenfell poem read, or "She is gone". And that's fine - as long as we deliver them as though for an opening night, after rehearsal, but without monotony.



Apologies, I think I'm going over old ground here, but after a week of six funerals (when I read "S/he is gone" at least three times), I feel this need to remind myself of the need to keep fresh and my occasional ability to do it!

No tongues

As always, these things have a way of turning out better than you fear (but never as well as you hope).

The very religious person said their bit, and the song was "You raise me up", so we could have got that on Wesley, but at least, as they brought their own CD player, I could scrabble around on the floor sorting the volume out while they did their stuff.

Another prayer was also mentioned by another contributor but, ultimately, the "commissioning client" was happy with the overall proceedings, so, job done.

Hey ho - onto the next.