Friday, 15 July 2011

Honest to goodness

When someone you love has died from an illness – one which you, and they, know will only end with their ending – it is often too painful to begin to imagine what they must be thinking or feeling. Partly because, unless you are the one staring death in the face, you can never really understand how that feels, and also if you let you mind wander in the direction of their physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual pain, your sorrow will overwhelm you.
So when I visit a family to arrange a funeral service, I always tread carefully when it comes to discussing how death occurred. While it's not necessary to share details with everyone on the day of the funeral, it does help me to understand how the family are feeling and what their loved one went through, and it's crucial in helping me provide the most relevant words of comfort for them during the ceremony. There are also times when a few words about the cruelty of dementia or the speed of cancer bring a reality to proceedings and a relevance for others attending, which I, personally, think is a good thing. As long as the family are OK with that, of course.
I went to visit a young woman recently who was in her 20's. Her father had died of cancer and, with her parents divorced some years earlier and no siblings, she was left to arrange the funeral. In my capacity as a celebrant, I was, understandably, concerned about how our meeting would go. At such a young age, would she be able to cope with talking about her dad, his funeral, and be able to make the necessary, emotional decisions? But, I was in for a surprise. And this was all due to the honesty with which she approached and talked about her father's illness. I won't go into details, but what stayed with me most about our conversation was the fact that she said "Dad was frightened". It was so heart-wrenchingly frank. I felt terribly sorry for him, and for his daughter, but also admired her for being able to get those three words out without falling to pieces in front of my eyes, which, under the circumstances, she had every reason to do so.
I'm not making any judgements with this post, as there is no right or wrong way to discuss such a sensitive issue. Some will tell you how their loved-ones coped, others won't. And that is absolutely fine. But those words stayed with me for quite some time.

5 comments:

  1. Good to read words from you again CB, hope thew pad is all you wish it to be.
    Two thoughts: I find that often talking about how the person has died is something people want - need, even - to do, and sometimes they want to do that early on. And secondly, like you, I think it is usually important to at least touch on the nature of the death at the funeral. In purely practical terms, people may have arrived at the door not knowing, and we do tend to want to know how and why someone has died, don't we? And at a deeper level, I agree, it can bring a degree of reality to what's happening - one of the underpinnings, as it were, even if little more is said about it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. A lovely post CB as always, shared beautifully and it has made me think. I'm glad you're back. X

    ReplyDelete
  3. Ah what lovely welcome greetings from you both – thank you GM and RR. Yes, I think people do need to talk about how someone died – that's certainly a recurring topic when you're counselling the bereaved. The memory of those final months/moments can haunt people for a very long time, and prevent them from moving on.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I'm very much with GM. How a person died informs everyone's feelings about the funeral. And people often like/need to talk about it -- and it's one of those topics that other people may squeam away from. The dying of someone is a very big event, after all; a great drama, however peaceful.

    A terrified death can sometimes be as difficult, almost, as a suicide.

    I have found Peter Fenwick's book The Art of Dying very useful in this respect. His research into what he calls ELEs (and which he pronounces 'ellies') is very informative and, actually, spellbinding.

    So good to have you back, CB!!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Thanks so much Charles! I agree with you on the aftermath of 'terrified' deaths. I have recently bought The Art of Dying and it's next on my list to read! Heard lots of good things about it, so I'm looking forward to making a start...

    ReplyDelete