We wouldn‚’t wait until our annual holiday begins and approach a travel agent saying, ‚”I have to go on holiday today, where am I supposed to go?‚” But that‚’s very much the way we organise and purchase a funeral when the time comes.
People have always hadritualsaround death, in verydiverse ways.The traditional funeral as we may think of it hasn‚’t been going long at all, and if we believe it is the only dignified way then perhaps we haven‚’t witnessed anything better. But if we had never seen this theatrical performance, with its dark uniforms and fleets of costly vehicles and rehearsed solemnity so remote from actual grief, would it occur to us to invent it?
While either boldness or caution can be valid reactions to loss, the conventional version remains the only choice that‚’s even presented to many of us. So if we want to take advantage of the trend towards family centric / motivated funerals that can help us better accommodate death, there‚’s no point in asking anyone what we‚’re supposed to do, especially if they presume to know. We are the hosts at this funeral, not the guests, and we‚’ll want to offer something rewarding for everyone who comes ‚- something we cannot buy by ‚Äòpersonalising‚’ a manufactured product with symbols of the dead person‚’s lifestyle choices.
Without a ceremony there is no funeral. The funeral stands or falls on its ceremony, and a good ceremony can rescue even a badly managed funeral. Anyone at all may step in and conduct it. Even the loyalty of a stumbling friend can be as moving as the most eloquent professional celebrant; though we often find that we want somebody to take care of it who‚’s experienced and emotionally uninvolved. Somebody who will pay attention to us and our memories, feelings, photos, expressions, thoughts, tears, laughter, silences, ramblings, insights, absences and anything we offer, and translate them into something that feels and sounds to us like the person we need to remember. Somebody who can turn our main focus from the pain of loss itself towards the emotional legacy of the person we‚’re missing; from the silence of death to the voice of the dead. That is what frees us to grieve, to be glad of life and willing to love again, much better than a ritual we don‚’t relate to or a belief we don‚’t believe.So if we‚’re not ready to re-invent the whole funeral, we can certainly claim the ceremony as our own, either unaided or with a celebrant. A funeral can be one of the rare times most or all members of a family are in one place, often a chance to consolidate and hold the weight of a shared loss.Death has a powerful draw, and it means a lot to us to be part of this gathering now that one of our own has left a void in our midst. What happens once we get there is important, and what is just starting to change is that now we are learning to hope for something at least as good as we‚’ve experienced or heard about elsewhere. At last there‚’s movement happening in funeralland, and our dismal expectations are beginning to rise. It‚’s our assertive demands that will raise standards, along with the realisation that it is the family, not the celebrant or undertaker, who is directing this funeral.What is it, then, that we do have to do when someone dies? It would be nice to imagine there really are straightforward answers, as the days following a death must be the hardest time of our lives to begin learning the new skill of organising a funeral. But if we fully grasp the principle that there are no rules apart from registering the death and disposing of the body, and that no-one except a coroner can tell us anything we don‚’t want to hear because the buck stops with us anyway, we‚’ll probably get by. We certainly don‚’t have to pin down our old folks beforehand and demand to know their funeral wishes, though a chat with them may be welcomed more than we realise. But it is instructive to talk about death in ways we can cope with; for instance about what would be our genuine gut responses, and what we could do to meet them, in the event of an imaginary death if not an imminent one. Then when a real death does happen we can at least be ready with some idea of what we‚’ll need, and how to find it for ourselves rather than be handed a substitute that we‚’re too overwhelmed to refuse.There are good undertakers and celebrants in most towns, some who will acknowledge and prioritise our altered mental state and support us unhurriedly in working everything out to suit our own best interests, and things are getting better. Yet the funeral‚’s reputation generally is still very poor, and we need to bear that in mind. If we come to it with ‚”eyes wide open‚” we‚’ll stand a chance of putting together a funeral to be remembered and emulated, more so than if we wait until death barges uninvited into our lives with its urgent demands before we turn and face it.Death doesn‚’t get noticed a lot, but it isn‚’t hiding. Our attention has been drawn to it lately by features and articles on funerals. They are interesting or alarming or sensational, and most leave unanswered the question; ‚ÄòWhen someone dies, what do we do next?‚’
We‚’re told to hurry up and find an undertaker to remove the person‚’s body and let him take care of everything from there. In our vulnerable frames of mind, the trouble with following this advice is that it can take things out of our hands and lead us somewhere we may not ordinarily choose to be.
We don‚’t think fondly of funerals, when we think of them at all. But then, they have mostly been done rather badly, and it‚’s not clear who‚’s responsible for that. Though nearly all of us say we‚’re satisfied with the result, a national survey identified what it called ‚Äòsecret disappointment‚’, which means the reluctance of most of us to admit that we wish things had been done better. We‚’ve been putting a brave face on it, because there‚’s no second chance and we have a vested interest in believing we gave our relative a good send-off.
There has been little consumer demand for improvement, and we‚’ve passively consented to the same prescribed formula and expressed the same old gratitude. Until lately, that is.