I'm not having that!

I’m dealing with the ceremony of a man who was a specialist on particular musical instruments. He has a CD of music that is not available elsewhere and so our good friends at Wesley can’t get hold of it.

In theory, this is not a problem. The chapel has a CD player in it, and in the past the FD has sat at the back and pressed the buttons for me.

Except, he won’t do it anymore. He expects the family to do it.

Unfortunately the CD player is at the back of the chapel and so I can’t operate that and conduct the service.

So, I think I’m going to take my own portable CD player (small chapel, small congregation) and play it myself. I’m rather peeved with the FD to be honest, but he is part of a large group (I’ll let you all guess) and collectively they give me a lot of work, so falling out with him would not be clever.

I doubt if they’re reducing their fee because they’re asking a family member to act as DJ.

Should I get down from my high horse? Or do others think that this FD is extracting the urine, too?

Don't be afraid to try something new....

We all say "this ceremony is about you and your dead - you can have what you like". I, for one, genuinely mean this, when I say it....but I also know what works well.

We could get all poncy, and talk about "flow" and "narrative arc" and these are things that we need to be aware of, whether it's conscious or not.

So what are the rules that you resist being broken? I ask, because it happened to me recently and was an enlightening experience. I'm a big music fan, generally, and in funerals particularly. It doesn't matter if it's a comic novelty song, or a beautiful aria, if it's appropriate to the people involved, I say "chuck it in". Music is also useful during times of movement (entry and exit, in particular). It covers that nasty squeak of a rubber heel on the parquet, or the sniffing and sobbing of the self-conscious.

However, this particular family wanted things to be different. They wanted the last piece of music (classical, operatic, poignant and wonderful) to be played in full and then leave to silence. The curtains were staying open, allowing folks a moment or two with the coffin on their way out, and this was happening without any musical accompaniment.

I offered an alternative - would you like to hear it all of the way through (sensible, double-time slot; there was no rush) and then play it again as we leave? No, definitely hear it once and then leave to silence. So this is what we did.

I had been discussing this with the long-suffering one, and suggested that it would be a powerful ending, but not terribly uplifting. I think that this prediction was right (at least for me), although one member of the congregation told me that he felt very uplifted, so it wasn't as negative as I had feared.

This has raised questions in my mind and regular readers of this blog will know that I like things that cause me to question my practice. One of the reasons that I like music is that it is a great masker (as described above). And, in the same vein, if a family have chosen three pieces, I suggest that the most upbeat one goes at the end, as we will try to end the ceremony getting people to leave death behind and turn again to life.

But, really, who the hell am I to do this? I'm not there to tell people what to think or feel, and if they want to go through the emotional wringer, because that's what they need, then me trying to end on a jolly note is no good to anyone.

Now, as with all funerals, things vary from family to family. They also vary within a congregation - some need to weep and gnash teeth, others need to look forward to brighter days.

And so, as usual, there is no one answer. But it has been an interesting exercise and one that has reminded me that I needn't be afraid of silence. It can be overpowering sometimes, but it does provide a place of stillness at a time when folks need to simply sit, breathe and feel. It's another tool to use, in creating the best funerals that we can.

To the family who suggested it, I am very grateful.

Seeing the same old faces

A couple of months ago, I mentioned that I had been to the hospital to visit the son of a "deceased". Now, I've had a call to do the son's funeral. This was not a young man - he was a grandfather, so we don't have the tragedy of a life cut too far short (although, don't tell his family that - I'm sure they'd have liked a few years). No, this is more a sadness from seeing a family grieving again, before the previous sorrow has had a chance to work its course. What was particulalry interesting is that it appears that my perception of the gent was way off. I had him down as an elegant, educated man (posh accent, you see - fools me every time). Yet, he was not as he seemed, being more likely (through both choice and circumstances) to shop at Oxfam than Saville Row. He was by no means unintelligent, but not the bookish type that I had thought. From the different family members that I've spoken to, it appears that he gave different impressions to those much closer to him, too. I've got to weave a path which enables everyone to recognise the person that they knew, while getting over the contradictions. The danger with these types of ceremonies, is that they are a little distant, as I can't get to the true "essence" of the man. But if he was an enigma, then perhaps that was his essence. It's unlikely that I'll ever know for sure.

I know I shouldn't laugh....

... and I didn't at the time. But this has made me smile, since.

I was talking to a lady about her Dad - the lady was telling me that he was very good at keeping his personal records etc in order, despite difficulties.

"He'd struggled at school, you see - he was anorexic."



Does that mean that he couldn't even eat his words?

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.