Sunday 18 May 2014

In praise of divorce....but not sex

"In their day, people stayed together"

It's a phrase that we hear every now and again, and suggests that today we are too flighty, to quick to give up and if only we worked a little harder at our marriages then it would all be worth it in the end and bliss would surely be ours.

Yeah, maybe.

I'm not for a single moment suggesting that our relationships should be viewed as disposable, to be abandoned at the slightest difficulty - coming through tough times together is a strengthening and positive experience.

But having recently conducted ceremonies for people who have been unhappy in their marriages, I can also question the point of sticking together beyond all hope. If decades of misery is your thing, then go ahead, but please don't claim the moral high ground about it.



On the other end of the relationship scale:


I don't know if other celebrants find this, but people often seem to be in hurry to tell me how great their sex lives have been. Trust me, if I say in a ceremony "he was an active man", I usually mean that he liked sport.

My favourite example of this was the gent who stood at his wife's funeral and gave a lovely tribute, including a little about what a generous and sensitive lover she had been. Good for them, but I suspect that neither her children, or her grandchildren, wanted to hear it.

Sunday 2 February 2014

Shakes head and walks away muttering

I was at a local crem recently, one with a generous (!) 30 minute service time, rather than 20 min, but still the ceremony before mine over ran a little. It happens, it was a minute or two, no hole was punched in the space-time continuum and the family I was with hadn't even noticed.

The minister appeared a little flustered, however, and as he was disrobing in the vestry, he was complaining about the family he had just served. (Personally, I stay with the family, at a discreet distance, until they drive off in the big black car, but that's not my point today).

"Honestly", he said "They spent half an hour deciding whether or not they wanted the curtains to close. It's ridiculous. We should either have them closed every time or take them down."

I was rather stunned by this comment. I appreciate that he was flustered, didn't like going over the allotted time and clearly had somewhere else he had to be. I also gather that there was a lot of "me, me, me" when it came to the family members who have, no doubt got on his nerves. But really? The curtains? Some cannot bear to watch them close; it feels as though they are being severed from the person they have lost. Others, couldn't possibly leave the chapel if the coffin is still on view, walking away, leaving them.

That is their decision to make and if they take half an hour's debate, then so be it. We do enough clock watching at the ceremony, we certainly shouldn't be doing it when we visit the family.




Then just last month, I had a call from a funeral arranger, giving me details of a ceremony that I was to conduct.
"Could you let me have the order of service now, please?"
"But I haven't met them yet"
"It's just that I need it for the printers" (The ceremony was about10 days after this call).

To confess, structurally, many of my ceremonies are similar but they are by no means rigid and if the family wants to have the coffin carried in and the curtains closed around it before the family enters (that's only happened once, but it's happened) then so be it. We can advise and guide but, ultimately, we are only there to facilitate.

To try and appease, I emailed through my "recommended" structure. Quite what the panic was, I don't know, we had no idea about family contributions, music choices, poetry or anything else at that point.

After the visit, (luckily, the family had an idea of what they wanted and so we were able to finalise the structure when we met), I sent the revised version through to the FD.

I am aware that there are time constraints and deadlines. Printers need a few days to enable proofs to be prepared, sent and checked.

But in both of these cases, it felt as though the priority was lost and that the family's wishes were an inconvenience that may messed up neatly drawn plans.

Life is messy, grief is messier. Let's just muddle through and help each other.

And let us also remind ourselves of the mantra of all celebrants, ministers, FDs, arrangers, chapel attendants, bearers, etc, etc - all together now "It's not about us, it's not about us, it's not about us."