Today I will be conducting three ceremonies (yes, I know).
In all three, I will be reading the same poem.
And this leaves me (as does everything) with many questions.
Am I getting lazy in my poetry suggestions (in all cases, the poem was read when I visited the family so that they could feel that it was right for them), or is it just a really good poem for funerals? Or both.
This is the poem in question:
As We Look Back
As we look back over time
We find ourselves wondering
Did we remember to thank you enough
For all you have done for us?
For all the times you were by our sides
To help and support us
To celebrate our successes
To understand our problems
And accept our defeats?
Or for teaching us by your example,
The value of hard work, good judgement,
Courage and integrity?
We wonder if we ever thanked you
For the sacrifices you made.
To let us have the very best?
And for the simple things
Like laughter, smiles and times we shared?
If we have forgotten to show our
Gratitude enough for all the things you did,
We're thanking you now.
And we are hoping you knew all along,
How much you meant to us.
CLARE JONES
See what I mean? For many people (and I'm conducting the ceremonies of much loved parents) it really hits the spot.
Using a poem this many times has its advantages - I practically know it by heart, so my eye contact is better when reciting it, I can play around with emphasis to get a little more out of it, that kind of thing.
But everything has a down side. What if I start saying it as though I'm reading it for the third time that day?
So I started to wonder if I should stop suggesting it to people (at the meeting, if they would like some poetry but don't know where to start, I normally read two or three to get a feel for what they might like). But given how much it resonates with so many folks, who am I to not suggest it?
As ever, I'm sure that I'll extract my head from my own behind and just do my best. If the families want this poem, then that's what they shall have.
On a completely unrelated matter, I met a family recently and they decided afterwards that I was not the right person for them. Concerned that I had done something to offend or upset them, I asked the celebrant who is now taking the ceremony to let me know anything that they found out. It turns out that because I suggested we have a time in the ceremony for quiet reflection or private prayer (even if the nearest and dearest are staunch atheists, their friends may not be), I was considered to be "a bit too religious"!
Sometimes, I can't find the words - because I'm trying too hard to suppress the laughter.
Peace and love to all.
Friday, 25 January 2013
Tuesday, 23 October 2012
Just keeping my hand in.
I've been absent for 6 months from the blog. Even by my standards, that's poor. During that time I've had lots of ideas for posts, but the problem has been one of timing. In the period since my last post in May, I've conducted nearly 80 funerals. This site has felt very much a luxury.
However, there is new competition nearby, as well as talk of training another humanist, so the numbers may reduce a little.
I will try to post something interesting when events dictate and time allows.
However, there is new competition nearby, as well as talk of training another humanist, so the numbers may reduce a little.
I will try to post something interesting when events dictate and time allows.
Sunday, 27 May 2012
You know you're dealing with an "interesting" family when.....
.... you take another phone call delaying something that you asked for several days ago. You sigh after the call has finished, and your beloved doesn't ask "when's the ceremony?" - he asks "when do you get rid of this one?"
On another note, I thought this time of year was meant to be quiet? It's been mental around here!
On another note, I thought this time of year was meant to be quiet? It's been mental around here!
Wednesday, 2 May 2012
Handbags and standards
Every now and again, there is a standard bearer at a ceremony that I conduct. I live in a place that folks retire to and many of my families are seeing off someone with war experience.
Recently, however, there were two standard bearers, thanks to the gent's military history.
I have got to know one of the chaps, Bert, pretty well. He likes to know the intricate detail of the ceremony, so that he knows when to do his part and I'm happy to go through this with him. The other chap, Ted, I hadn't met, but he seemed a charming gentleman who was much more relaxed, happy for me to just give him the nod etc. Watching the two together, however, was very amusing.
Bert spent a good five minutes telling Ted what he normally does (as in "this is what we're going to do"). Ted, being laid back, took it all on board and went along with it, but not without the raising of eyebrows and sly little smiles at me. It started to get a bit catty ("Can I have a chair?" - "A chair? I always stand!") and I found them each lovely in their way, but very funny when together.
Of course, both gents knew what they were doing, were very respectful of why they were there and performed their solemn task with all of the dignity and decorum that was requred.
But as they stood there, either side of the crem facing each other, standards raised, I couldn't help but think to myself that if the standards had been light sabres, we'd all be dead.
Recently, however, there were two standard bearers, thanks to the gent's military history.
I have got to know one of the chaps, Bert, pretty well. He likes to know the intricate detail of the ceremony, so that he knows when to do his part and I'm happy to go through this with him. The other chap, Ted, I hadn't met, but he seemed a charming gentleman who was much more relaxed, happy for me to just give him the nod etc. Watching the two together, however, was very amusing.
Bert spent a good five minutes telling Ted what he normally does (as in "this is what we're going to do"). Ted, being laid back, took it all on board and went along with it, but not without the raising of eyebrows and sly little smiles at me. It started to get a bit catty ("Can I have a chair?" - "A chair? I always stand!") and I found them each lovely in their way, but very funny when together.
Of course, both gents knew what they were doing, were very respectful of why they were there and performed their solemn task with all of the dignity and decorum that was requred.
But as they stood there, either side of the crem facing each other, standards raised, I couldn't help but think to myself that if the standards had been light sabres, we'd all be dead.
Saturday, 28 April 2012
Small last minute changes
They were very clear what they wanted.
Time to say goodbye (a popular choice) as the curtains closed.
So I had it all planned - ask everyone to stand, press the button for the music. Read the committal words over the strings at the beginning, practiced and timed like the DJ I once dreamed of being, let the Italian begin and then hit the button for the curtains just as Ms Brightman starts with the chorus.
It was ready.
I was slick.
The FD shook my hand just before the service and said "Oh, slight change of plan. We're keeping the curtains open".
I smiled and said "okay, fine" - what else could I do?
Still read the words over the intro, though - save the poor congregation standing for too long.
Time to say goodbye (a popular choice) as the curtains closed.
So I had it all planned - ask everyone to stand, press the button for the music. Read the committal words over the strings at the beginning, practiced and timed like the DJ I once dreamed of being, let the Italian begin and then hit the button for the curtains just as Ms Brightman starts with the chorus.
It was ready.
I was slick.
The FD shook my hand just before the service and said "Oh, slight change of plan. We're keeping the curtains open".
I smiled and said "okay, fine" - what else could I do?
Still read the words over the intro, though - save the poor congregation standing for too long.
Thursday, 1 March 2012
We have ways of making you talk....
Other people's perceptions of us are always odd, aren't they?
If you were to ask me the sort of ceremonies that I thought FDs would select me for, I would say the ones where the deceased was a "loveable rogue" and there was a lot of laughter at the arrangement visit. I can often find the humour in things, have a pathological need to lighten the mood and can deliver a story with acceptable comic timing, so these seem the most natural fit.
Imagine my surprise the other day, therefore, when I had a call from an arranger. The gent who had died had been the reclusive sort. He'd never married or had children. Didn't travel, did the same job for many decades; he'd worked hard but without ambition. He had great no passions or hobbies, had lived quietly, on the fringes of his family and, for the last few years, had suffered from dementia. But, of course, the family wanted to pay tribute to him; his life had been long and they felt that he deserved a good send off.
So I was called because, it seems, I'm "good at finding out stuff". Now, Mr X.Piry interpreted this phrase as "nosey" and agreed heartily (harsh but fair), but I was surprised. Yes, I do ask lots of questions, and my favourite one is "why" ("so why did they move there, then?", "why did he particularly like non-fiction", "why did he mean so much to you?") but I had a vision for a moment of me, sitting with the family, shining a light in their eyes and forcing them to tell me the name of their uncle's pet dog!
As it turns out, we had a nice friendly chat, I found out a bit about the man (general interests, how he interacted with the family etc) and agreed with the good folks that it probably wouldn't be a terribly long ceremony (I think we were 20 mins in total). They were happy with this and, after the ceremony, were complimentary, saying that line which always means a lot - "He would have loved that".
Of course, each funeral is individual, but this one was relatively safe, calm and nothing out of the ordinary happened. But it has got me wondering about how I'm viewed and, more to the point, is this a good thing? Does it mean that there's more than one string to my bow? Or am I simply the smiling interrogator?
If you were to ask me the sort of ceremonies that I thought FDs would select me for, I would say the ones where the deceased was a "loveable rogue" and there was a lot of laughter at the arrangement visit. I can often find the humour in things, have a pathological need to lighten the mood and can deliver a story with acceptable comic timing, so these seem the most natural fit.
Imagine my surprise the other day, therefore, when I had a call from an arranger. The gent who had died had been the reclusive sort. He'd never married or had children. Didn't travel, did the same job for many decades; he'd worked hard but without ambition. He had great no passions or hobbies, had lived quietly, on the fringes of his family and, for the last few years, had suffered from dementia. But, of course, the family wanted to pay tribute to him; his life had been long and they felt that he deserved a good send off.
So I was called because, it seems, I'm "good at finding out stuff". Now, Mr X.Piry interpreted this phrase as "nosey" and agreed heartily (harsh but fair), but I was surprised. Yes, I do ask lots of questions, and my favourite one is "why" ("so why did they move there, then?", "why did he particularly like non-fiction", "why did he mean so much to you?") but I had a vision for a moment of me, sitting with the family, shining a light in their eyes and forcing them to tell me the name of their uncle's pet dog!
As it turns out, we had a nice friendly chat, I found out a bit about the man (general interests, how he interacted with the family etc) and agreed with the good folks that it probably wouldn't be a terribly long ceremony (I think we were 20 mins in total). They were happy with this and, after the ceremony, were complimentary, saying that line which always means a lot - "He would have loved that".
Of course, each funeral is individual, but this one was relatively safe, calm and nothing out of the ordinary happened. But it has got me wondering about how I'm viewed and, more to the point, is this a good thing? Does it mean that there's more than one string to my bow? Or am I simply the smiling interrogator?
Thursday, 23 February 2012
Silly little mistakes
Nothing major has happened, but when we're in a business where we really want to get it right, the small silly mistakes can seem big.
The first one? Everyone is standing up as we process in. The coffin is placed on the catafalque and as I start to fade the music I say in a commanding but kindly voice "Will you please stand....sorry....sit down."
To be honest, it turned into a good ice-breaker (I may use it again!), and it was a family that found it funny. I got away with it.
The second one, I felt even more daft about. The family is spread all over the globe, and so I offered to record the ceremony on a small dictaphone. I do this occasionally, explaining clearly that it is not professional quality, but it can be better, for those far away, than simply reading the words.
Of course, this only works when you remember to turn the damned machine on! As I walked out of the chapel, after the ceremony, I remembered. Naturally, I told the family that there had been a problem with the recording (details neither useful nor necessary at this stage) and offered to record it later. I got home, sat in my office and read the thing again, downloading and playing the music at the appropriate times. It was the best I could do, but not the same.
So, why these silly mistakes? Am I just getting a bit weary? Either way, it's a week before my next ceremony - I can't help but think that that's probably a good thing.
Love and peace to all.
The first one? Everyone is standing up as we process in. The coffin is placed on the catafalque and as I start to fade the music I say in a commanding but kindly voice "Will you please stand....sorry....sit down."
To be honest, it turned into a good ice-breaker (I may use it again!), and it was a family that found it funny. I got away with it.
The second one, I felt even more daft about. The family is spread all over the globe, and so I offered to record the ceremony on a small dictaphone. I do this occasionally, explaining clearly that it is not professional quality, but it can be better, for those far away, than simply reading the words.
Of course, this only works when you remember to turn the damned machine on! As I walked out of the chapel, after the ceremony, I remembered. Naturally, I told the family that there had been a problem with the recording (details neither useful nor necessary at this stage) and offered to record it later. I got home, sat in my office and read the thing again, downloading and playing the music at the appropriate times. It was the best I could do, but not the same.
So, why these silly mistakes? Am I just getting a bit weary? Either way, it's a week before my next ceremony - I can't help but think that that's probably a good thing.
Love and peace to all.
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