The Good Funeral Guide

AuntAunt Fidelia
Brought the rolls
With her
Green bean casserole
The widow Smith
Down the street
Dropped by a bowl
Of butter beans
Plastic cups
And silverware
Lime green
Tupperware everywhere
Pass the chicken
Pass the pie
We sure eat good
When someone dies

Funeral food
It’s so good
For the soul
Funeral food
Fills you up
Down to your toes
Funeral food
Funeral food

There sits mean
Ole Uncle Bob
Gnawing on a corn
On the cob
And who’s that
Walking
Through the door
I don’t think
I’ve ever
Seen him before
Isn’t it a shame
She passed away
She made
The best chocolate cake
Let’s hit the line
A second time
We sure eat good
When someone dies

Everybody’s here
For the feast
But come next week
Where will they be

Nick Gandon operates the UK’s first and, so far as I know, only dedicated direct cremation service. Here is the comment he left on this post from a few days ago, and which you might have missed. I first wrote about Nick here.

When I started out in the world of funerals, they were just that little bit less complicated, and the “big groups” just didn’t exist, (with maybe the exception of the Great Southern Group).   Even the Co-Ops were still in “bite-size” individual chunks of local business.

In terms of evolution, 1970 was not that long ago, but in terms of business, thats another story.

Things were simple, costs were realistic – a “regular” cremation cost between £170 – £190 depending on the catering.  Few firms thought of offering pipers, doves, fireworks, novelty hearses etc., and most funeral services had humble premises – with a chapel of rest at a chosen few.  The Austin princess motor hearse was King.

Then along came big business and public expectation, driven by “what America does today”, and health and safety costs, profit margins, national advertising, working time directives etc etc.

Now, I’ve always supported the “is there anything else I can do for you?” approach of a conscientious Funeral Director, but, by segmenting the choice of Basic, Traditional and wherever else grades/costs of funerals, there obviously has to be a point where the FD draws the line.

It could be argued that in their haste to outdo Smith Bros down the road, Miggins Bros Undertakers have created a financial rod for their own back, and so on across the UK.  The new premises may be palatial, but the cost inevitably goes on the funeral bill.

Local authorities set the cremation and burial costs, private enterprise follows – and therein lies the largest chunk of profit in the funeral account.  A “sacred cow” which is arguably a bit of a scandal.  The profit created by a council-run crematorium is substantial.

By getting caught-up in the business rat race, most FDs have adopted the “grow or disappear” ethos.  They probably have little other choice.  Their accounts will reflect that situation.

Ironic, therefore, that a growing number of “funeral buyers” actually seek the opposite of the “monster” that modern trend has created.

Something “dignified and very simple” is a request that I hear more often these days.

When comparing and justifing the costs of providing the elements of a funeral, few people outside the funeral profession can have the slightest idea of just how many factors come into play.

Some FDs have built a business aimed at the more humble of us, with day-to-day costs that match.  There are firms that aim their business to extract as much wonga from the public as they can possibly get away with.

The one thing these firms have in common is the fact that their true costs for any individual portion of their service will not be the same.  Thus, it’s virtually impossible to compare true like-for-like figures between Undertakers.

The writer that compares the costs of a £30 taxi ride with the cost of providing a hearse for the same journey is, alas, not thinking through the implications of his/her comparison.

Yes, things can be provided for a heck of a lot less than at present, but reality has to be part of the deal.  It costs serious money to provide the elements of a funeral – whether a firms provides for 100 funerals a month, or just 2.

I personally think that the funeral businesses in the UK have, to a degree, lost their way.     By trying to be “all things to all people” they have created an impossible rod for their own backs – though for arguably all the right and proper reasons.

My ethos is “keep it simple”.

Nick adds, in a further comment, these words in response to Jonathan’s assertion that “Funeral directors aren’t set up to cater for direct cremation because the demand is almost nil.”

It is true that as individual firms, few traditional FDs will receive enquiries for direct cemations on a regular basis.

You may agree, or not, that because there is little profit in direct cremation, as opposed to the traditional funeral, there is little incentive for FDs to actively promote this method of disposition.

Because we specialize in providing the service, our costs are appropriately less than would otherwise be the case, and we pass those savings on to our clients.

You also wrote “I’d guess a reasonable fee for direct cremation from an established funeral director would be around £1800-£2000″.

Would it be a surprise to learn that one of London’s premier and most respected FD’s (established circa 170 years) offers such a service for £1182 (inc your disbursement figures) albeit on a local basis.   Our charges for the same service would be £1147.

Direct cremation will never be the first and obvious choice for all families, but the growing interest by “thinking people” in this choice of funeral outlines a trend away from tradition.

We are more than happy to provide a cost effective choice for families, whilst acknowledging that traditional funerals are, on the whole, reasonably priced and good value in the UK.

Nick talks about ‘thinking people’. He’s talking, I guess, about the same sort of intellectuals who, years ago, championed cremation when it was reckoned barbaric. To opt for no funeral, or for a celebration of life, without the costly and distracting presence of a dead body is entirely consistent with atheist beliefs, and with the beliefs of any who subscribe to the duality of body and spirit. When the playwright Arthur Miller was asked if he’d be attending the funeral of his ex-wife, Marilyn Monroe, he replied: “Why would I? She won’t be there.”

Thank you very much, Nick, for going to all this trouble! We are indebted to you (metaphorically, I stress!)

Easier on the eye than a pic of me

Here at GFG HQ we are in turmoil. Our computer crashed yesterday and, to cut a long story short, some hands were lost and we have a new operating system to get used to.

Worst of everything, I have lost my entire archive of emails and e-addresses. So if you’ve contacted me recently, and haven’t heard, please re-send.

Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible. Peace of mind may take a little longer.

Thank you.

Why a pillow, I wonder? Especially a pillow that looks nothing like a pillow. I’m not at all sure that the feeding-duck look as it goes down is a good look. If you turn down the music this gets dull.

These guys have missed a trick, leaving a gap in the market for you. Stuff the pillow idea, develop a biodegradable Viking longship. With fireworks. People don’t want to go down with a glug, they want to go up in a blaze, right? You read it here first. If you make a few bob, remember me.

It is with a heavy-hearted sense of duty that I record this beastly and deplorable allegation against Co-operative Funeralcare. You can find the full version at MoneySavingExpert.com.

Don’t use co-operative funeralcare directors they are disgusting …They failed to complete the legal documents correctly they put the wrong funeral date on the documents … We were refused entry into the crematorium chapel and were left outside in the cold distressed and in total shock, the funeral directors were an absolute disgrace they were too busy blaming the crematoria staff and they in turn were blaming the funeral directors. They threw the flowers into my mums hearse and put her photo in on its side! they showed us no respect or help at all just told us to go back to our cars because the service would not go ahead today. It was only after myself and my family refused to move and told them to get the police that they started to accept that they would have to do something so the service could go ahead. DO NOT USE THE CO-OPERATIVE FUNERAL GROUP!!!!!

Here is an all-too-familiar complaint from the Guardian:

I had problems with the accounts section of Co-operative Funeralcare. When I booked the funeral I said that I would not be able to pay for it until probate had been granted. I was told that would be fine provided I kept the accounts section informed. On the day, and before, the staff involved with the funeral were brilliant. Afterwards I began getting threatening letters from the accounts department. I explained what was happening, but the threatening letters continued, including threats of Court Action and referral to debt collectors … Obviously no company would survive if it was not paid for it’s services, but I had expected a more human approach from Co-operative Funeralcare accounts department, not just communication with a computer.

Also from the Guardian, a case of an unaccountably expensive funeral, even after taking into account the fact that the only charge the writer saved himself was the cost of a celebrant:

In the last 12 months, I have sadly lost my Mum and my wife. Mum’s funeral in South London cost £1480 (inc VAT). My wife’s funeral in Fenland cost £2950 (inc Vat). In both cases we did not make use of a vicar, but conducted the service at the crematorium myself. The only ‘extra’ was another doctor’s certificate needed in the case of my wife. We had no headstones or plaques and no announcements in the newspapers. Included in the Fenland charge was £357 for a vehicle to travel 22 miles from the undertaker’s to the crematorium. I felt , and still do feel, very ripped off … The company we used in Fenland had been taken over by the Co-Op, but hadn’t told anybody.

The following, from the Independent, are not Co-op stories. But there is a moral in them for all funeral directors, because they are going to encounter more and more demand, especially from atheists, for direct cremation:

It was my aunt’s misfortune to die on Maundy Thursday, less than 24 hours before the longest bank holiday of the year. She had donated her body to medical science … But when the day came, her donation was, maddeningly, refused … My uncle and I discussed what to do. We agreed to go for the simplest option, in accordance with what we believed would have been her wishes. I began making enquiries. I phoned six funeral directors and asked them to quote for a cremation. In London, a 45-minute slot at a crematorium costs around £500, but if you are prepared to accept an early morning appointment – 9am or 9.30am – the charge drops to less than £200. In addition, you must pay the fees of two doctors to confirm the death, amounting together to £147 … The quotes I received from the funeral directors ranged from £1,500 to £2,000. I did some arithmetic. Allowing £200 for the cremation, £150 for the doctors’ signatures and £150 for a cardboard coffin (at cost) came to £500 in all. The task for the funeral director was to collect the body from the hospital – St Mary’s, Paddington – and take it to the crematorium (Golders Green, Marylebone, Islington or – the cheapest – Mortlake). For the living, the cost of this journey by taxi would be about £30. For the dead, it turns out, it is £1,000. Dead unlucky, you could say. Next time, I plan to hire an estate car, buy a coffin and do the job myself.

And this:

My father died in 2008. He was a staunch atheist who asked for his body to be ‘offered as convenient for medical use or research and otherwise to be cremated wholly without ceremony’. The hospital didn’t manage to take up this offer so we were faced with the same problem. We were unimpressed with what seemed absurdly expensive offers from undertakers. Eventually my brother took Dad’s body from the hospital mortuary to the crematorium by van, at a fraction of the price. This was entirely successful, and it was what Dad wanted. It’s time the death industry started providing for those of us who do not want any ritual around our remains.

Do leave a comment — especially if you are a funeral director.

The body of Yuli Somme’s mother is borne away for burial in a Devon field, February, 2010. The shroud was made by Yuli. You can have one, too. Visit her website.

A beautiful, beautiful photo.

I’m not ashamed to admit it (I’ve never mistaken myself for someone with a brain), I’d never heard of Libitina til this morning.

You?

Libitina. The Roman goddess of death, corpses and funerals. Gave her name to Roman undertakers: libitinii. She was, if I may quote from m’learned friend Wikipedia, a “black robed, dark winged figure who might, like an enormous bird of prey, hover above her intended victim until the moment came to seize it.” Much like death today, in other words.

One of the gates of the Colosseum was dedicated to Libitina, and through it were dragged the carcasses of despatched gladiators.

Over at Stupid Mart I find that you can bid for a figurine of Libitina on eBay. The listing describes her as: A great piece for your coffee table or to put on your mantle. Buy it for your local undertaker / funeral director, or that special someone who drives a HEARSE. Here she is:

In some traditions, Libitina is the same as Venus:

A beautiful story for you today – one you’ll have to listen to.

It’s a BBC World Service programme about an Amsterdam civil servant, Ger ‘Gerry’ Frits, whose job it was, til his retirement, to arrange and hold funerals for people, all kinds of people, who have nobody. “You must like people, love people, and you do that for each other in a community. You do that.”

Frits is a stickler for good form. He insists that the funerals he holds are the same anyone else would have. So: every funeral must have fresh flowers, four bearers, three pieces of music, respect and someone to say goodbye.

And a poem. Written by Frank Starik. He was so impressed by Frits’s work that he has been working with him since 2002. And he has started something of a movement among fellow Dutch poets. Frits would, at first, give Starik no information about the dead person which might lead him to make judgements of that person or their circumstances.

‘Lonely funerals,’ they are called. And the object is to return stories to those who have lost them.

You can download the programme as a podcast here. Highly recommended.

A while back, Claire Callender talked about what it’s like, as an undertaker, to ‘remove’ (industry term) a dead body from a care home. It’s something I talked about a lot yesterday with a friend who has an especially beautiful mind. It’s something he frets about, often talks about, something we both mean to do some research into.

The very idea that death in a care home should be so widely regarded as a catastrophe is bonkers. Obviously. The fact that residents are subject to a protective lockdown so that the corpse-handlers can get on with their furtive work is shameful. And shaming. Of the undertakers, too—what does all this hole-and-corner stuff say about them? Jayzus, if a retirement community can’t get its head around something as routine as its membership expiring on a regular and perfectly natural basis, who can?

Why, my friend likes to ask, can the staff not tell everyone what’s happened so that those who want can pop in and say goodbye and/or line up at the front door and applaud as their friend is borne away? Can death not be integrated into the life of a care home, not quarantined? We’re talking natural causes here, not Ebola.

Cannot the dead person drop into the care home for half an hour or so on the way to her funeral so that those too infirm to make it to the crem can have a farewell do for her?

There must be care homes that make a much better fist of this than most—who have healthy rituals to deal with the event. I’ve no idea if any care staff read this blog, or hospice workers. I do know that a number of funeral directors do.

Because what my friend and I would like to know is: Do you know of anywhere that handles the death of a resident in an emotionally healthy way? What do they do? How do they do it?

Please, if you have a moment, type your thoughts and stories into the comment box below. We’d be very grateful.

Thank you!