Celebrant Ruth Valentine wants this at hers. 

Click the icon bottom right to bring it up to fullscreen. 11 mins.

Anne Dunbar, co-owner of a funeral home in the Dayton suburb of Springfield, Ohio, reports that 15 to 20 families a year now ask that newspaper obituaries include a plea for contributions toward funeral expenses.

It’s not uncommon, in the US, for families to raise money for a funeral, and here’s a new way of doing just that.

It’s comparatively uncommon in reticent Britain — where, to be fair, funerals aren’t nearly as expensive.

We wonder if the everlasting recession will change that. More than that, we wonder why it’s hardly ever done at all. People ask ‘Is there anything I can do?’ customarily with a helpless shrug of the shoulders. Give them the opportunity to bung a few quid into a JustGiving-alike fund and I’m sure they’d be relieved, the more so if they knew that any surplus would go to a chosen charity. 

People like to feel they’ve done their bit, that’s the point. 

Celebrant Tim Whittingham wants this played at his. 

The following is an abridged version of a story in this is Cheshire

A GRIEVING sibling says she is angry and upset after the wrong picture was placed by her brother’s coffin at his funeral.

Directors at Co-op Funeralcare also forgot to lay a Manchester United flag over the coffin as directed.

The 63-year-old said: “We have been totally ignored.  Nobody has come back to me, I have to keep ringing them. We didn’t know who the man was in the picture but I was too upset to say during the service.”

After three months of calls, Mrs Banner finally received a letter of apology from the company and was told two weeks ago the fee for the service had been refunded.

She added: “If we had a sincere apology straightaway from the Co-Op that would have done it. But now I can’t let go of the idea that I couldn’t fulfill my brother’s last wishes. I think they thought I was upset and if they left it long enough I would give up but they have made me angry and now I can’t let go. “I don’t think they should get away with treating people like that and I would never use them again.”

A spokesman for Co-operative Funeralcare said the flag was placed inside rather than on top of the coffin ‘due to a breakdown in communications’.

He added: “We would once again like to offer our sincere apologies to Mrs Banner and have reviewed our procedures in order to ensure that this will not happen again. We sent a letter to Mrs Banner a few weeks ago apologising and offering to reduce the cost of the funeral by means of compensation. We pride ourselves on the professional service that we provide to our clients and acknowledge that, on this occasion, our level of service fell short of our usual high standards. The celebrant, independent to Funeralcare, has expressed his apologies that the photograph he used was not a photograph of Mr Bonehill and has returned his fee.”

Ed’s note: While it’s true to say that a good celebrant will make a funeral director look good, and a bad funeral director can never make a good celebrant look bad, this story shows us that a bad celebrant can make a funeral director look awful. One is almost inclined to offer condolences to the Co-op, but not quite. 

Here’s an interesting and stimulating view of funerals from Guardian commenter Sussexperson:

Each to their own, and all that, but there are serious flaws in the “capturing the person” style of funeral. I’ve been involved in a depressingly large number of those over recent years, so can speak from bitter experience.

You don’t, as a rule, have very long to organise a funeral service: often, less than a week. Consequently, friends and family are scrabbling around for favourite readings, favourite music etc. If the funeral’s at the crem, you generally have to choose the least worst option from the music on offer rather than the single piece of music the dead person would really have wanted. If you’re tasked with giving the eulogy (or “saying a few words”, as it’s usually put), it’s just awful: the closer you were to the person, the less able you are to sum them up in a glib two-or-three-minute address. Result: the general attendees may come away saying the usual things about “a lovely service” or whatever, but you, the handful of nearest and dearest, know you’ve short-changed your relative/friend — that it’s all been a bit sketchy and inadequate. Horrible. And the guilt of that stays with you.

Myself, I’ve decided I don’t want to inflict all that on my own family/friends when I go. I’ve left instructions in my will that there’s to be no ”saying a few words” or other DIY stuff at my funeral; it’s to be the traditional C of E Book of Common Prayer funeral service, and no nonsense. Not because I’m religious, but because it’s the most perfectly-constructed ritual I know of — and ritual is there for a reason. It externalises all the thoughts and feelings that people in grief (assuming anyone does grieve my departure!) can’t easily put into words themselves. It provides a framework. And it lets the mourners mourn, instead of foisting upon them the necessity of getting up an ad hoc bit of am-dram. Furthermore, by using the same ritual, the same words, that have been in use for centuries, it makes that single death part of a long continuity: something to be accepted as the fate of all mortals, not some exceptional outrage against natural law. Much more comforting, in my view.

Plenty of opportunity afterwards, over the funeral baked meats, for the anecdotes and personal reminiscences and quiet chuckles, if people want to do that.

In the same comments thread was this, from Remorsefulchekist:

I went to a Christian funeral and was bored witless.
I went to a Christian funeral and was moved beyond words
I went to an Atheist funeral and was bored witless.
I went to an Atheist funeral and was moved beyond words
Repeat with variations for Sikhs, Muslims, Pagans, Jews, Agnostics, Buddhists . . . 

Guardian article here. 

I need another place

Where there’ll be peace

I need another world

This one’s nearly gone

Still have too many dreams

Never seen the light

I need another world

A place where I can go

I’m gonna miss the sea

I’m gonna miss the snow

I’m gonna miss the bees

I’ll miss the things that grow

I’m gonna miss the trees

I’m gonna miss the sun

I’ll miss the animals

I’m gonna miss you all

I need another place

Where there’ll be peace

I need another world

This one’s nearly gone

I’m gonna miss the birds

Singing all their songs

I’m gonna miss the wind

Been kissing me so long

Another world

Another world

Post by Evelyn  - a haunting, sad, sad song…

Brian Appleyard writes: Mueck exhibited only one piece at the Sensation show: Dead Dad, a hyper-realistic sculpture of the corpse of his father. The first shock was that it was little more than half life-size. The second shock was — well, I’ll come back to that. Some years later, Craig Raine, the poet and critic, recalled his reaction to Dead Dad. “And there, on the floor, 3ft long, is one indisputable, obvious masterpiece… a calmly brilliant sculpture which is the contemporary equivalent of, say, Holbein’s subtle portrait of Erasmus, with its engaged intelligence and wryly amused thin mouth.”

I enjoy Mueck’s work and this sculpture in particular, reflecting how death apparently diminishes those we love.

See  Brian Appleyard’s whole article here

Posted by Evelyn

Are you intrigued by the healing or consciousness-changing potential of floatation tanks? Now is your chance to experience the floatation chamber in your own home with a unique piece of psychedelic history.

The winning bidder will also receive signed, framed portraits of Leary and Lillyby visionary light photographer Dean Chamberlain. These prints are valued at $1,200 each.

This Samadhi Floatation Tank was gifted to Timothy Leary in 1996 by its inventor, renowned consciousness researcher John C. Lilly, who hoped it would help ease Leary’s end-of-life suffering.

Download and read this provenance letter to learn more about the tank’s features and the historic exchange between Lilly and Leary.

Place your bid here.