‘No fuss darling. Nice and simple.’ That was my dad’s request as we sat one November evening with a glass of wine by the fire as I took notes of his preferences for his funeral. ‘Definitely no coffin. Just have a good party.’ He was getting into the swing of it now. ‘And no tears.’

‘That’s not up to you,’ I said just seven months before the cancer silently lurking in his body had made its presence felt. Foolishly I was under some misapprehension that despite his 86 years he’d be here for a long time to come. He was fit, strong and as he often told us he still had good legs. With his zest for life, he’d always planned to make a 100 and there was little reason to doubt him.
Three years earlier, in the days before COVID together we’d planned my mum’s funeral, his wife of 59 years. Perhaps unsurprisingly, after such a long life together their wants were not dissimilar. No coffin, no black and the mood should not be sombre.
Not everyone gets round to jotting down their hopes for their funeral or planning for the end of life especially when that life is cut short unexpectedly by illness or tragedy. Yet, given the inevitability of death facing us all and aware of our capacity for denial, I’m baffled by how many people refuse to talk about death at all. I’ve heard the superstitious say that the act of talking about death might somehow invite it into our lives so it’s best avoided.
Time after time, working with families who are planning a funeral, I see how much it matters that we have these conversations and how they can help to provide a map and a sense of direction when we really need it.
But what’s clear from the success of the Death Café movement across the world is that there are ever growing numbers of people who want and need to talk about death. Embracing Your Mortality is the title of the endlessly fascinating podcast hosted by Sue Brayne, author and speaker on all things to do with death and dying, which encourages us to embrace our mortality so that we can all live more consciously. It’s well worth a listen if you haven’t discovered it already.
Time after time, working with families who are planning a funeral, I see how much it matters that we have these conversations and how when we keep a note of them, they can help to provide a map and a sense of direction when we really need it. And when it came to the task of planning my dad’s final celebration after he’d gone, I shared my notes with my brother and found them incredibly comforting because I could hear dad’s voice again. He guided us to create a celebration of his remarkable 86-year life which was warm, creative and stylish; much like him.
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