Apologies for lack of posting

I'm sorry for the long gap since my last post.


I don't like to make excuses (and this may sound like either bragging or complaining - neither intended), but in the last seven weeks, I've taken 25 funerals. This has been quite a "purple patch" for me, but it has meant that I haven't raised my head above the parapet much.


They've been a mixed bag; including a couple of people that I had previously met - one because I had done a ceremony for her husband just a few months ago. I know that "broken heart syndrome" is not uncommon, but this person was not a candidate as far as I could tell. The other was a lady who knew that she had a terminal illness and so called me a few months ago as she wanted to arrange her funeral.

This was a bit weird, but is something that we get asked to do. I was a little surprised not to meet her family too, but that was her choice. Given that control of her life had been taken away from her, then it's perhaps not surprising that she wanted to have some power over her funeral.

However, this meant that the control was taken away from those who usually have it. After the lady had died and I went to meet her husband and children, I felt a distinct chill and I don't blame them. No doubt my lady felt that she was "saving them the worry" as well as making sure that she had the music etc that she wanted. She had also left time for them to make their tributes and say their pieces, but still, they seemed a little adrift. The lady had died quicker than anticipated, due to complications with her illness, so that was likely to be a factor.

Looking back, I wish we'd done this differently, but what could I do? I can advise, I can suggest and I can give examples. But I am not there to tell people what to do, and if this lady wanted to take care of it all, I either had to go along with it or walk away.

I'm feeling pretty tired at the moment. I realise that to some (especially those who work to a more fixed ceremony structure), then I probably seem like a complete wimp and making a fuss about what is, after all, about 3 1/2 ceremonies a week. However, with other bits of work that I do, and the amount of time it can take to visit a family, write the ceremony, check it and then deliver it, the last couple of months has been an exercise in time management. It got to the point where if I had the words prepared, my clothes ironed and ready, the cat fed, and I hadn't run out of milk, then I considered myself ahead of the game.

I'm not asking for sympathy; this is my job, after all. I'm just explaining my absence (and lack of activity on other blogs) in the hope that anyone cares.

Off on my hols for a week, after another little adventure (details to follow in a later post), so I hope that all are healthy and happy, that the sun is shining on you and that the Icelandic ash doesn't prevent me sitting by a pool in a Mediterranean Resort.

Good vibes to all

Something positive

I realise that I usually complain a lot on this blog.

However, I have the story of an absolutely cracking funeral. And I'm not being immodest. One of the reasons that it was so great was that I had very little to do with it!

The deceased was a singer who had reached a good age. His son is the most organised man on the planet. He arranged the whole thing, we had running orders, he'd lined up the contributors, and, following our discussions, we'd even allowed some contingencies if the contributors ran over time. We had a double time slot, and he had been to the venue at least twice to check out the location, the sound system and anything else he wanted to know (even how long the curtains take to close...). This was a great case of the family taking as much control of the funeral as they wanted. The FD and I simply stood by and acted on our instructions.

This man (the son) has a great energy and dynamism about him, and so although the control freak in me usually resists being told what to do, I just didn't mind in this case.

And it worked beautifully. The music sounded great. We didn't get to have the "open mic" slot we'd hoped for when folks could stand up and say what they wanted, because of time constraints, but that was our contingency. They were all off to a great celebration afterwards, so no doubt many stories were being shared there.

Never have I had so much praise for doing so little. Yes, I still gave a lot of time and consideration to the bits that I was saying (finding the right quotes, etc), but in comparison with many ceremonies, I didn't have to do as much. The tributes were all coming from the family and friends who knew the gent, I was just audience and button presser.

So many people afterwards said "That's what I want...." which is very gratifying (although they will need to get the gent's son involved, as he was the one who did it all). I was just the MC, the Assistant Stage Manager, the gob on a stick.

It was an honour and a privilege to do.



Apologies
I would like to apologise to Rupert who, accurately, chastised me for not responding to his comments. I have now responded to his direct question by email and I would like to apologise for my rudeness.

I don't always reply to comments on the blog - although it's my blog, I don't want it ever to be a place where folks may want to comment (particularly if they disagree with me) and feel that they can't because I'm going to come back arguing.

However, I am very grateful to all who read it and who take the time to comment - it is appreciated, even if I don't make that plain.

Is it common to talk about money?

I've just had a conversation with a funeral arranger that has left me feeling uncomfortable.

I opened my cheque from this company, to find that they had paid me last year's fee. Mine went up at the beginning of this year. I rang to say that it wasn't a problem, but please could they amend my records to reflect the new figure?

It would appear that the answer is "no".

The reason is that my fee is more than £10 higher than the local clergy. Now, I'm not in the business of promoting myself by criticizing others, but what I didn't say is that each of my ceremonies is composed from scratch, word by word. Yes, there are some readings and ideas that are universal and get re-used, but they are all re-written for the individual concerned - I don't have a standard service to follow.

I am aware that the best clergy also personalise everything and spend a great deal of time with their families and that there are probably bad humanists who just knock out their standard service without much thought (if there are, then people should complain - I don't want such people giving us all a bad name). But I take my work very seriously, I invest a lot of time in each ceremony and I don't think that what I get as an hourly rate is particularly high, when the full amount of time that each one takes, from start to finish, is taken into account. It's not as though anyone becomes a celebrant to get rich!

I also didn't talk about the ceremonies that I don't charge for (such as the ones for the very small people).

I'm not much of a negotiator (as you can tell), so I more or less backed down right away. I'm still sufficiently new at this that the fear of losing work is greater than the fear of losing a few quid.

But now I feel like the stuff I clear from the litter tray.

At best, I will lose a few quid each time I work for this FD, but, at worst, I won't work for this FD again and will get known as a money grabber. (Forgive me, I have an active imagination and occasional paranoia).

I wish I hadn't made the call now, but I guess that it's better to talk about this stuff then not.

The arranger said that he had received some very good feedback about my work and was happy to recommend me, but was worried about pushing my services when my fee is so much more and funerals are already so expensive. Yes, they are, and in the scheme of things my fee is a very small proportion when the family also has a limousine and flowers and.....

I'll get over it; I always do. I'll go and see the arranger and make sure that we're still friends. It wasn't an angry call on either side, but it has left me with a nasty taste in my mouth.

Ah well.....onwards.

Shortchanging the dead - update

Many thanks for the kind comments to the previous post.

Well, we're through the other side and I'm delighted to say that it went....okay....ish. Or at least better than expected.

I wish I'd read Charles's comments earlier - I did as he suggested but not, I feel, as eloquently as he would.

I put in lots of thoughts on life and death, our connectionswith others, how the deceased will live on through the family and memories of those who love him....

I explained that humanist funerals can include tributes to the deceased, but in this case, his family had asked that those present be given time to think about him and to reflect upon what made him special to them (I'm paraphrasing, but you get the drift.....)

What actually saved us today was nothing to do with me (of course), it was the music. The family had chosen pieces which hadn't looked promising on paper, but they actually worked really well.

It wasn't a long service and I still feel it would have been better with a fuller tribute, but it didn't turn into the train wreck that I'd been fearing and for that, I'm glad.

I didn't get quite my usual quota of handshakes and "thank you very much" afterwards, but the fact that I got any was a pleasant surprise.

Ultimately, the dignity and the very nature of the occasion seemed to win out.; egos were put aside (hopefully mine, too), and there were expressions of sorrow, but not anger. It was all pleasantly calm. Now, whether or not that's the right way to grieve? I'm no psychologist, but it did mean that the whole thing passed off without aggravation and additional upset. There had been enough of that already. I'm glad that there was some resting in peace.

Shortchanging the Dead

It's been very busy just recently (ten ceremonies in as many days) and so I am (happily) working all hours so that none of my families feel anything other than theirs is the only funeral I have to work on.

But one family has made me cross. The deceased was brought up in a very religious family but has moved away from his faith. As a result, he wants a non-religious ceremony, which is why I was called.

I met with his son, who told me some lovely tales of his father's life, some stuff was funny, other stuff really demonstrated that the deceased had the human frailties of us all, but that he was essentially a decent man.

I spent Sunday afternoon writing up the tribute part of the ceremony. Yes, I had included
some of the funny bits, but I was, essentially painting my usual picture of the chap - not ignoring his faults, but emphasising his qualities.

Then, yesterday morning, I got a call from the son that I had met. Apparently his elder sister thinks that we are taking the mickey out of Dad, and so I was given dictation over the phone of what they want me to say. It will take me about 90 seconds, tops.

I could certainly (and would willingly) tone down the funny bits of the tribute, if the family wanted, but I'm not even allowed to do that. I am to say exactly as I've been told. I warned the son that we wouldn't have many words in the ceremony, and he seemed to accept that, giving me to understand that this is more to do with the lack of a faith leader in the ceremony than anything else.

This has made me somewhat cross.

• The deceased isn't getting a fitting tribute, and I am short changing him, but yes, he is dead, and the ceremony is for his family, so they must have what they want. It doesn't sit well with me, though.
• I don't want anyone thinking that this is a typical humanist ceremony. I will do my best with what I can, and explain (tactfully) that the structure of the ceremony is at the family's request, but it is going to be a very poor show, and that worries me.
• If I were a religious minister, would I be as flexible? Or would I insist on certain things in the ceremony. Probably, but I don't think that the stuff I'm being asked to leave out can come under any heading of "essential" if the family don't want it.
• I could have spent that time so much better on another family's ceremony.

Talking of time, I should now get back to the job in hand. But this is a very frustrating situation. In my heart I would like to say "oh, go and find yourself a minister", but that wouldn't be the deceased's wishes either, and I think that some of us should defend them.

Ultimately, I'm just here to do what the family want. What a shame they want such a rubbish thing.

Venting etc update

I never have to speak to that bloody man again.


In hindsight, and in the cooling down of tempers (okay - temper....mine) I have had pangs of guilt. This man is grieving. This person has lost someone very dear to him. This man is floundering alone in the world.


And then I remember the correspondence we shared in which he said "well, I am sad that we haven't been able to spend as much time on this as I would have hoped".


Oh for ......goodness sake! He may not have done - probably because he was too busy sorting out his new bathroom, trying to get people to contribute to the ceremony (who really weren't that interested) and floating around saying "but I need to have this ceremony". I however, did spend a lot of time on the ceremony, talking to those who could be interested enough to contribute, trying to get information out of people who were leaving it all to this bloody man, and trying to write a ceremony despite constant interruptions from the annoying little....soldier.



I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Anyone reading this would probably be horrified and think that I'm completely unsympathetic at a time when someone is grieving a loss. I'm really not. I'm just human, and there are some behaviours that get right on my threepennies, and his behaviour was demanding, clinging and solipsistic. It was only the fact that I knew that he was grieving that prevented me from telling him to shove the whole ceremony right up his.....



Deep breaths, deep breaths. I must go to my happy place....





By way of contrast, the funeral without the body was quite an experience.



Firstly, for the outdoor bit, we had to walk to the top of a hill. Perhaps I should explain - I don't do outdoors, and I don't do exercise (which explains my trim and youthful physique), and so was glad that we had a bit of milling around at the top of the hill, as it enabled me to get my breath back.

Once there, this was relatively familiar ground - a tribute to the deceased, some readings from loved ones, a moment of silence for reflection and/or prayer.

Then we went to the indoor venue, and the bit that I was dreading, the "and who would like to speak now" part. These have an element of chaos about them, and I know that chaos is wonderful and human and spontaneous, but I worry that as I'm there (and, let's be honest, being paid) to keep order, I want to do my job properly, and to the standard that folks want.

The initial discussions with the family had been to have a completely open ended thing, but I suggested that we would need some kind of finish to the semi-formal bit, before the whole thing descends into what is simply a social gathering, when people talk about last week's match, rather than focusing on the deceased. Not that there's anything wrong with the social stuff, but that's not what I've been asked there for.

It was fine. Siblings of the deceased read some pre-prepared words. The lady's children and partner did the same. Another relative had written a lovely poem. A former colleague said what a nice person she had been to work for, it was all very moving.

There is a slightly weird thing that happens in that, because I'm the person who has thrown open the floor, people start telling their anecdotes to me, rather than the room. It makes me feel like a television news reporter - the ones you see deliberately nodding as their interviewee speaks.

The other thing that I found was that I took on an awful lot more emotion than I was expecting. I had never known the deceased, and although she seemed like a very nice person and I liked her children and partner, I wasn't expecting to feel any more emotional involvement than I feel at other ceremonies.

Yet, after hearing all of these stories and recollections, many said through tears, when I returned to my folder for the concluding words, I struggled to get through them. I had to take a deep breath, and hope that it sounded as though I needed to clear my throat, rather than fighting tears of my own.

It's almost hypocritical to get upset about the death of a stranger, and yet, is it? This was a young(ish) person who seemed like one of the good guys. During ceremonies we often talk about our connections with others - the "no man is an island" idea, so perhaps I just got a bit upset because the bell was tolling for us all, and that I was sharing the sadness that these apparently good people were feeling?

Or maybe it was body chemistry, adrenaline dissipating as the relief that it had gone okay was starting to kick in. Whatever it was, I got through it, stayed as short a time as was decent (I didn't want to feel like Banquo's Ghost), and made my way home via a shop that sold delicious but not healthy food (see note above about climbing hills).

And of course, it wasn't over then, as there was the delicate matter of my fee. After all, no FD had been involved to pass me a little brown envelope in a pseudo-masonic handshake. I resolved this by sending them a copy of the words that I had said at both venues, and including a list of contributors and including an invoice in the envelope. The good people paid straight away - what a relief!

Of course, for me it's now all over; my papers are shreddedand my electronic file is archived. For them, it's a whole new reality and one that they don't want.

Love and peace to all.

Venting and Funerals without Bodies

Perhaps I should get my rant out of the way first?

I'm dealing with the arrangement of a very elderly gent and right now I want to kick one of his children. This person (known as "that bloody man" in our house) is being vague, evasive, floaty, and has started playing games that I don't want to play.

Yes, I know - he's grieving and not himself.

I'm used to grieving people, I accept that you sometimes have to ask the question many times to get the answer, because they don't have strong concentration, I understand that people display their upset through short-tempered behaviour and (occasional) downright rudeness, I know that people are not at their best when they have been through a dreadful emotional trauma.

But I still want to give this person a very hard slap.

It's the age old problem of them turning the whole thing around to themselves, and moving away from the deceased.

So far I've had to deal with this person's difficult family relationships (I wonder why people fall out with him?), his discussions with his priest (oh, how I wish that that revered individual was conducting the ceremony!), his home improvements and the fact that he seems unable to give a straight answer to a straight question. I don't think that the man's a politician, but it's certainly a career option for him!

This is a person who does an awful lot of talking without saying much, and in terms of information about his dearly departed parent there has been practically nothing.

And now, when I've tried to call at a pre-arranged time, he's not there. It feels to me like he's trying playing power games, but he can play on his own. I am here to support, to write and conduct the best ceremony I can with the information that I'm given (if any), and to be polite and professional when I speak to him.

I am not here to validate his existence. I have enough insecurities of my own to worry about.

Thankfully these people are few. Otherwise, I would have to take up smoking.

Rant over. Thank you for being there.

Funeral without a body.

Also coming up this week, but with people who have been much more forthcoming about info and generally easier to deal with, will be a ceremony without a body. I don't know when the actual funeral is happening, but the lady's family didn't want the "conveyor belt" and "claustrophobic" feel of the local crem and a wooden box, and so they are letting the undertaker deal with the body (I believe that they are going to do something with the ashes, later) and we are holding the funeral ceremony at a separate venue on a separate day.

Part of me is dreading it - these things can be so free and easy ("and who would like to speak now") that it is easy for them to descend into chaos, and so I'm working hard with the chief mourners to make sure we have some kind of structure, however loose it is. Apparently some of the family are a little unsure about it all (understandable, we're going into unfamiliar territory), but if those who knew the lady best feel that it's what she should have wanted, and if it's what they need, for their grieving, then that's what they shall have.

I was discussing it with a colleague, and here we got into interesting territory. "I'm surprised that they don't want to accompany her on her final journey", my colleague said. To most of us, on the secular side, that journey's already been made, and this is just a memorial (for the ceremony) and disposal (for the body). Forgive me, that sounds a bit brutal.

I suppose, in the end, we must all "do right" by our dead. How we define "right" is formed by convention, belief and legal requirements, but is, ultimately a personal decision. It feels an honour to be involved in it.