25 May 2012 – The Good Funeral Guide

Mourning the machine

25 May 2012

Charles

7 Comments

Categories: Immortality

Posted by our technology correspondent, Richard Rawlinson

Congratulations to Sir Jonathan Ive, creative head of Apple, for his knighthood this week. The Brit behind the superb styling of iPod, iPhone and iPad is perhaps the world’s most influential designer. Part of his brilliance in making his gadgets so alluring is the way he virtually anthropomorphises them: the MacBook laptop has a status light that pulsates gently when the computer is sleeping, mimicking the rhythm of breathing. Dell tried to copy this psychologically appealing characteristic but its result was closer to heavy breathing during exercise, not so calming.

No wonder we feel loss when our MacBooks breathe their last. It’s more than the inconvenience of being denied our instant online fix. It’s more than the expense of buying a new one. Are we indignant that the product of such a hallowed brand is mortal?

Another bookcase coffin

25 May 2012

Charles

1 Comment

Categories: coffins

From an article in last Sunday’s Telegraph:

Kenneth Grange, 82, has designed some of the most familiar products and appliances used in our daily lives, from Kodak cameras to Kenwood food mixers, parking meters and bus shelters to London taxis. He began his career working as an architectural assistant at Arcon Architects before becoming a freelance designer and a founding partner of the design consultancy Pentagram. His work is currently on show as part of the V&A’s British Design 1948-2012 exhibition.

Kenneth Grange has designed a bookcase coffin, pictured above, which has, to date, evaded the eagle eyes of the GFG newsgatherers. Grange says:

“I designed a bookcase when my mum died in 1997. I was at the undertakers looking through a terrible green catalogue of coffins, all of which were awful and expensive, but we had to pick one. I knew she would have resented that pressure on the family, to see her off well. Sitting there, I thought to myself how ridiculous it is that I am spending my life haranguing people to live with well-designed things and when I go it could be in one of these dumb boxes. I thought, I will make my own! Mine one fits me like a glove and the lid is behind it – it’s just a matter of taking the bookshelves out, screwing the lid on and away we go. The only problem will be getting whoever is responsible to follow my instructions.”

Simply remove the shelves and cover with the lid, which is stored at the back of the bookcase.

It’s a lovely piece of work all right, but difficult to DIY. For those who’d like to make their own we recommend William Warren’s ingenious and lovely coffin. Send him your measurements and he’ll send you a plan. Free. Yes, what a nice man. So many people have contacted him through the GFG that we’ve had to send him a complimentary copy of the book. Find William here and his bookcase coffin below.

Greenfield Creations, folk heroes here at the GFG, also sell a bookcase coffin.

Thank you James Blackburn of Scotmid Co-operative Funeral Directors (recommended by the GFG) for alerting us to Mr Grange’s creation.

Thoughts of a funeral-goer

25 May 2012

Charles

13 Comments

Categories: Thoughts of a funeralgoer

Posted by Lyra Mollington

Our neighbour Keith had no idea that the woman who visited him every day in the care home was his wife of 57 years. Their children and grandchildren were also strangers to him. After he died, Doreen felt guilty that she wasn’t as grief stricken as she thought she should have been. She was also worrying about how Keith was coping in heaven. When the children told her they were going to help her to plan the send-off their dad deserved, she felt a glimmer of hope returning.

The sun was shining on the day of Keith’s funeral. His widow was wearing a cream dress with a pale pink jacket. There was no floral arrangement – instead Doreen, her children and her grandchildren each placed a rose on the coffin before they sat down. Everyone had chosen their favourite colour. The roses clashed beautifully. Jim Reeves was singing, ‘Welcome To My World’.

After some words from the celebrant (a homely looking woman with a warm smile) Keith’s daughter and son held hands and came up to the front to read the poem ‘One At Rest’. The celebrant then told us how Doreen and the family had spent the weekend reminiscing, talking to friends old and new, and looking at photographs going back to 1933, the year Keith was born.

They had decided not to have a eulogy. Instead, there was going to be a slideshow set to Rodrigo’s ‘Fantasia Para Un Gentilhombre’.

As soon as I saw the first black and white photograph of a little boy sitting on his father’s shoulders, I was captivated. We all were. We smiled, laughed and shed a tear as photographs from each decade of Keith’s life appeared: the school boy with a crooked tie; the soldier standing to attention; the beaming bridegroom; the Chelsea supporter with his blue and white scarf; the proud father and grandfather; and the fisherman with his arms outstretched describing the one that got away. We even saw Keith dressed as a pirate. By the time the final photograph of an old man cradling his great grandson came into focus, I was desperately hoping for more.

The music ended. But then there was a short piece of camcorder footage. Keith and Doreen were on the dance floor at their granddaughter’s wedding reception. This was just a few months before the Alzheimer’s diagnosis. Doreen was wearing a cream dress and a pale pink jacket. Keith spotted the camera, smiled and waved.

Later, Doreen told us that this was the man she wanted us all to remember. More importantly, this was the Keith she wanted to say goodbye to.