Missing

Monday, November 27 I got up very early, and just before nine o’clock Caroline was brought back by the funeral director and she lay on a trestle in the front room, with lots of flowers. She lay there until half-past twelve: over three and a half hours. All the children arrived and the grandchildren, and the guest began arriving, and they all went in to see Caroline, who looked so beautiful. I kissed her, and dropped tears on her cold, cold face.

Thursday, April 25 Where is she? Her body, which I loved and knew so well, was taken away and burned, but she’s not there … I think she’s happy, but I’ll never, ever see her again till that day I die and after that, who knows?

Tony Benn — Diaries

Last week we looked at belief in angels. There were some good comments, and not for the first time we reflected that losing someone is something that is, for most people, decidedly not susceptible to rigorous rational analysis. As Gloria Mundi had it, “it’s a deeper need than rational thought … Who’s going to jump up in a funeral and say ‘he’s not looking down on us, he’s gone, dammit’?

Wendy Coulton believes that her deceased grandparents act as her guardian angels: “It hurts no one else to believe this and I consider myself blessed and loved from people I cherish. They do not have wings and their special power is an enduring and unconditional love for me. I believe in them and they believe in me.”

The feeling that the person who has died is out there somewhere, waiting for us, is strong, expressed for many by that Henry Scott Holland reading about the one who has died being in the next room.

It’s a mystery. It’s mystery that keeps us wondering and also keeps hope alive. The same for people disappear in this world and whose body is never found. Those who love them never give up hope that they are somewhere.

It’s happening now to the families of those who were flying on MH370. In the words of the brother on one missing man: “We are not giving up hope. Because if there are no answers, there is no finality. So, miracles have happened…”

No finality. No end to the mystery. Every one of us goes missing in action someday. For those who love us there may live on a hope or even a belief that we are out there somewhere. For the relatives of those on board MH370 there is the same hope and, as for Tony Benn, the terrible pain of not knowing.

Gloom is no mood for a chapel of rest

Undertakers put a great deal of effort into making people who have died look good for when family members come to see them. There is, they feel, great therapeutic value in the experience of visiting someone who’s died, especially if they’re looking serene. They employ a range of cosmetic treatments to achieve a good ‘memory picture’. If the family is pleased with what they see, this reflects well on the undertaker’s duty of care. They are (relatively) happy customers.

But the fruits of the cosmetic work carried out in the mortuary are so often let down by the decor and especially the lighting of the chapel of rest. Most undertakers, when asked to demonstrate their lighting, adjust a dimmer switch — in other words they achieve the desired mood-effect not with light but with gloom. That gloom, taken together with the physical coldness of most chapels of rest, can make for a sub-optimal experience for the visitors.

Old fashioned tungsten bulbs, with their low colour temperature, shed a warm light at any intensity. But they’ve been outlawed, and undertaker must nowadays fit halogen and LED lamps with a much higher colour temperature — ie, a much colder white light. Result: it now takes even more gloom to mitigate their coldness in the chapel of rest.

I’ve only seen one chapel of rest which uses additive colour  to light the chapel and, above all, the person who’s died. By mixing red, green and blue light it is possible to achieve a variety of effects (see pic below). If, for example, there is still evidence of jaundice in the face of the dead person, it is possible to counter that by careful colour-mixing. It works better than dimmed white light but leaves something to be desired if the quality of the equipment is not up to the job. It’s important to have the right kit.

Better still is to do what theatre lighting designers do and use colour filters. An actor of a certain age will always ask for pinky-lavender filters in the front-of-house lanterns because pinky-lavender flatters older skin.

Theatre lighting experts know all this. They know how to light human faces of all ages and, just as important, they know how to create mood onstage with subtle use of colour. Even to them, though, lighting a dead human face is likely to pose a challenge because the light does not encounter warm blood beneath the skin. They would have to experiment with their colour filters according to the age and condition of the dead person. They’d bring in ambient light from other lanterns in the chapel of rest. They’d crack it, for sure.

Shortly, the GFG will be working with a theatre lighting expert to transform the lighting in a chapel of rest. When we’ve done it, we’ll tell you what we did and show you before and after photos. If you’re an undertaker and you’re interested in a makeover in your own chapel of rest, do get in touch.

Where angels care to tread

Do you believe in angels?

According to research by the think tank Theos in 2012, around a quarter of the population do. If you’ve not seen the Theos report, do have a look: it’s a fascinating survey of the faith of the faithless generally.

Belief in angels is, of course, as old as time itself and is shared by many religions including all 3 Abrahamic ones. In classical Christian belief angels encircle the Godhead and sing alleluias and suchlike worshipful greatest hits, arranged concentrically in choral hierarchy: Seraphim,  Cherubim, Thrones, Dominions, Virtues, Powers, Principalities, Archangels, Angels. God employs them as messengers, and we note that it’s a pretty plebby sort he dispatches to planet Earth — mere Archangels, for heaven’s sake.

Today’s angels — perhaps we should call them post-New Age angels — are often evoked by unchurched people when someone dies:

So go and run free with the angels
As they sing so tenderly
And please be sure to tell them
To take good care of you for me

Children who die are often fondly supposed to have grown angel wings and flown to heaven. As a proportion of the population, females are probably more likely to transition to angelhood than males. Old people are seldom reckoned to have been the beneficiaries of this celestial makeover, probably because they don’t conform to the aesthetic. A nan with wings really isn’t a very likely look. 

Just how thought-through and developed this modern belief in angels is I have no idea, so I hope you can come in with some info and points of view. Belief in guardian angels is widespread, as in: “One day, when my son was a baby, I tripped while I was holding him, and he went flying headlong toward a brick wall. There was nothing I could do to protect him, but I watched as he inexplicably stopped an inch from the wall and fell gently to the carpet. I knew immediately that an angel’s hand had been his bumper pad.” Source. People pool their experiences at Angels Online.

Angels are part of the modern iconography of death, which includes other winged creatures — eg, doves and butterflies — together with rainbows, as in:

Time for me to go now, I won’t say goodbye;
Look for me in rainbows, way up in the sky.

It would be interesting to hear the reflections of celebrants on funerary angels. Are they part of a Disneyfication of afterlife beliefs generally? Do they play an influential part in people’s grief journeys?

Peopling the undertaker’s window

Posted by Richard Rawlinson

The only dummy I’ve ever seen in an undertaker’s shop window is the reflection of myself staring back at me. I recently unleashed my inner window dresser, and suggested grabbing the attention of passers-by with moving installations: screens behind displays, with visuals chosen to complement the other props—eco-coffins, for example, accompanied by mood-evoking time lapse videos on a loop, such as flowers budding into bloom before shedding their petals. Life, death and rebirth, the beauty, frailty and eternal optimism of nature cycles.

The designer manqué is out of the closet again. This time, the prop du jour is the dummy. Mannequins are not just for fashion stores, darling. But I’m not talking about those creepily life-like, makeup-caked dolls of your high street’s Madame Boutique. I’m thinking mannequins of wood or cardboard, as charismatic as Antony Gormley’s figurative sculptures, their lack of facial features allowing you to project human emotion onto them, whether contemplative, melancholic or celebratory.

The rather chic example above is actually robotic. Imagine her standing over the soul-mate she’s just lost, bending down every so often to gently touch the lid of a natural wood coffin. Add the below dog to the composition, and they’re suddenly transported to a burial meadow, especially if the screen behind is showing green landscapes, and wild flowers decorate the set. Their body language becomes evocative, the faithful mastiff”s posture, so still and attentive, can easily seem mournful. The viewer’s imagination does the work when context triggers it.

Stylised mannequins of men, women and children could be rearranged into many scenarios. Releasing a dove into the air with a model dove in flight hanging from the ceiling on invisible thread. Balloons would suffice, too. Or urns, their carrier about to scatter their ashen contents. A mother and child mannequin (forever Madonna and Child), when propped with poppies automatically conjures up the feeling of loss of those killed in war.

You could become ever more airborne. Stairway to Heaven, anyone? But the point is that prospective customers might be attracted by depictions of funeral situations with which they can empathise. Mannequins become us.

What you say and the way you say it

Caroline Goyder is a voice coach at the Central School of Speech and Drama. At the Good Funeral Awards weekend 2013 Caroline spoke to funeral celebrants and earned rave reviews. She’s got a new book out, Gravitas: Communicate with Confidence, Influence and AuthorityThere is an attractive launch offer. In Caroline’s words: 

Until 14th March you get the first two audios, Find your Gravitas, and Presentations with Gravitas (worth £40) as a present when you purchase the book: 2 great 40 minute gravitas audio mp3 recordings of Caroline’s core principles for confidence and gravitas, in bite-size sections.

How? Either from Amazon:  and email us the receipt to  by 14th March to receive the audios via emailed link.

Or you can buy Gravitas direct from Random House (RRP £12.99) for the special price of £9.75 including free UK P+P. To order please call 01206 255 800 and quote the reference GRAVITAS14. To get the free audios, simply send the invoice number to info@gravitasmethod.com and we will send you the audio mp3s via email.

We’re excited about the book and hope you enjoy it – and the great audios in this offer. To get both simply buy the book by 14th March, email the receipt to info@gravitasmethod.com and you will be emailed the audios via a link you can download from immediately.

Food for thought

Celebrant and guest blogger Wendy Coulton visits a Death Cafe

Curiosity and a genuine interest in the concept prompted me to drive a five hour round trip on a wet Sunday to attend a Death Café in Bristol. The setting was the basement of an informal vintage styled tea shop and as people descended the steps and made polite introductions, it had all the makings of some underground subversive meeting away from the scrutiny of the authorities or those who would not approve. But within minutes there was a pleasant friendly exchange of conversation between strangers who were relieved like me that so many (over 24) people turned up!

We began with some basic housekeeping rules so that it was understood this was not a counselling or grief support group and that we would respect confidentiality around personal details from what is said during the Death Café session. We briefly heard about the Swiss origin of the Death Cafes as a convivial setting (cue cakes) where matters related to the D word could be openly discussed without prejudice or judgement. Leo – who ‘facilitated’ in a loose sense – helpfully provided some questions to kick off the chat but there was no awkward pauses in the group I joined. We split into groups of about five and about 45 minutes later we came together to hear pithy highlights of what issues and topics were discussed.

Before the Death Café I thought it was a selfless act for me to leave clear instructions on what I wanted for my own funeral so my daughter didn’t have to second guess or worry about ‘getting it wrong’ but when I drove home I mulled over the insightful views of those I had the pleasure of meeting and shifted my view. What hadn’t occurred to me was that by doing that I would deny my daughter a chance to express what my daughter wanted to do in her own way to say farewell and pay her respects. And actually why should I care – I will be dead – and therefore did that make me just controlling and that any decisions or discussion should be with my daughter about what she might find comforting when that time comes? So I intend to have the chat (with more cake) with my daughter so that she knows what I feel strongly about but also that she has freedom of expression too when she has to make arrangements for my funeral.

#Bovo2014 — 5-7 September

The Good Funeral Awards have moved. Up, of course, several notches, as the prestige of this event grows. And upcountry, too, to Bournville.

Bournville is a suburb of Birmingham. It’s where they make the chocs. It’s in the middle of England, easily accessible by road, rail or canal to funeralists of a northerly or anywherelsely disposition. Looking forward to seeing you, Lol.

Bournville — unlike Bournemouth — is in exactly the right place to attract the public. We want people to come along and hang out with funeral people, meet handpicked suppliers and practitioners and enjoy some interesting talks. This’ll be on the Saturday. We’re calling it the Ideal Death Show, website under construction.

The Good Funeral Awards will be held on the Saturday evening. Nominations open in April.

As ever, we want the event to be progressive, intelligent, diverse, open-minded, edgy and warmly welcoming. Above all we want it to be useful. So this year we’re running parallel activities. We’ve got talks and demos for the public running alongside talks and workshops for undertakers and celebrants. For those who don’t fancy the Awards this year there’ll be a fleet of minibuses taking off for a curry house. There will be entertainment at the Friday evening barbie and something on the Sunday morning before you go home after lunch.

This weekend attracts the brightest and best people in Funeralworld. It’s a great clan gathering where you can meet new people, see old friends, debate issues and share experiences. It’s the year’s big highlight. 

It is also collaborative and co-operative. We welcome all bright ideas and initiatives. Contact us with your ideas, please. This show belongs to everybody.

We try to keep it as cheap as possible, this year cheaper than ever. The venue, the Beeches, has perfectly habitable rooms at budget prices. We hope to keep admission as close as possible to free.

This event has generated an immense amount of good publicity for the funeral business. Here’s just some of the press coverage of last year’s event:

Clarissa Tan wrote a personal opinion of the weekend: The ideal death show

Embalmer of the Year, Liz Davis, relaxes by stuffing mice

Lifetime Achievement Award for Bristol funeral director

Eco-friendly hearse earns Golders-Green based Levertons and Sons recognition at the Good Funeral Awards

Minehead woman wins Embalmer of the Year Award

Calne artist thinks outside the box for final gift

Henley Woodland Burial Ground wins Award

Horncastle’s Stuart digs his way to the top for national award

Radio interview with gravedigger of the Year 2013

Clandon Wood Surrey Hills Natural Burial Reserve Nominated For Cemetery Of The Year Award

Perth funerals specialist claims top honour

National Awards Honour for Trio from Family Funeral Business

Dignity marches on

The Times has reported Dignity plc’s results here(£). Briefly:

Pre-tax profits are up 15 per cent to £52.9 million.

Prepaid funerals contributed £6.7 million of this.

The bonus pool is £2.5 million and all fulltime staff have been given ‘a payout equivalent to’ £1000.

Final shareholder dividend of 11.83p a share, an increase of 10 per cent on last year.

Market share now 12 per cent.

68,000 funerals conducted last year, up from 63,200 in 2012

In the last year, 40 funeral homes and 2 crematoria acquired.

Share price rose 13p yesterday afternoon to £15. City slickers well pleased.

Dignity’s position is, of course, vulnerable to consumer awareness of its relatively expensive  funerals and its relationship with Age UK; and to disruptive intervention in the crematoria market on the US crematory model.

Over to you, Mr Plume.

Better together

Sexual intercourse began, Philip Larkin reckoned, in 1963. So, roughly, did the secular funeral. It was about this time that the BHA began to develop its celebrant network.

Uptake wasn’t dramatic at first; most unchurched people carried on having bleak and meaningless duty-minister funerals all the same. By the turn of the century, though, it was clear that numbers were fast falling away from the church, and it was in 2002 that the zeigeisty ‘civil’ funeral for people of fuzzy faith or swirly spirituality was transplanted from Australia by Professor Tony Walter. Civil Ceremonies Ltd began to train ‘civil’ celebrants (Prof Walter is still one of the tutors) to conduct funerals “driven by the wishes, beliefs and values of the deceased and their family, not by the beliefs or ideology of the person conducting the funeral.” This formula was taken up by green fuse in Totnes and then by the AOIC. Infighting at the AOIC begat all manner of breakaway training outfits and professional associations. The cost of training became a competitive issue when new providers entered the market with cut-price, ‘microwave’ training.

We can talk about the value of training another day. Can it do more than merely get you started? Can it turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse? Or even a halfway decent suede one? Does training weed out those who aren’t good enough? Wouldn’t apprenticeship work rather better? As I say, another day.

A consequence of the upsurge in celebrant training is that some areas of Britain are now flooded with bright-eyed rookies trying vainly to get a foot in the door, watched with uncollegial fear and loathing by incumbent practitioners. The number of training orgs has gone off the scale.

The self-regard of secular celebrants is high, bolstered by the touching gratitude of the families they work with. Lest this self-regard lapse into complacency, let’s have a look at three areas possibly requiring attention.

1. Why do you all hate each other?

There is, to all appearances, vastly more that brings celebrants together than drives them apart, shared vocation for starters. So, why so little interdenominational dialogue? 

Why all this silly internecine stuff that fuels feuds? Humanists mutter bitterly of pick ‘n’ mixers and prostitutes. Pick ‘n’ mixers and prostitutes mutter that humanists are arrogant and out of touch, the IoCF is too corporate, green fuse is hippy-dippy, ministers are wicked. Some organisations are too commercial, selling celebrancy as a nowt but a nice little earner; others offer externally accredited diplomas at an unnecessarily high academic level. All organisations think they’re the best. 

To anyone on the sidelines it looks as if navel-gazing issues, commercial concerns, petty jealousies, the promotion of self-interest and making the best of things as they are, not as they ought to be, engross you to the exclusion of vastly more important matters. 

Oh, and the truth is that all celebrant organisations churn out some celebrants who are stunning and some who are rubbish. You need to sort that. 

2. Why the complete lack of thought leadership?

There is a very lively, issues-rich debate going on these days out there in society about dying, death and funerals. Name one contribution to this debate made by the celebrant orgs. Go on, one.

Celebrants, you are intelligent people and the best of you are reflective. Collectively, yours can be an influential voice. But you can only begin to contribute when you start talking to each other.

3. Why the denial of client choice?

Celebrancy does not offer, for celebrants, a level playing field for open and fair competition. It’s no job for a proud freelancer. Undertakers, many of whom are little interested in the value of the experience offered by a good funeral ceremony, are still the arbiters of who gets to work and who doesn’t. This suits the palm-greasers (the sort of who slip their FD fifty quid for every funeral), the grovellers and the dependency junkies. It works against talented new entrants for whom career progression may be a matter of dead person’s shoes.

This comes at the cost of the very thing everybody in funerals says they care about most: client choice. If it is good and right that the best celebrants thrive and the worst go to the wall, then it is clients, and only clients, who can be the arbiters of that.

Client choice is easily enabled. The website funeralcelebrants.org.uk already enables bereaved people to type in their postcode and find out who’s in their area. Only a very few of the listed celebrants have enabled feedback. Tcha! Every celebrant can link to their website on which they can have a video clip so people can see if they’re their kind of person, and a calendar showing their availability — like a holiday cottage.

But first you need to get together and show a united front to the undertakers. Are you up for that?

If it’s the interests of bereaved people that matter to you most, as you say, it’s time to drop the bickering and put them first.

Window displays that move

Posted by Richard Rawlinson  at his eye-watering best

The multiple windows of Harrods, and the eye-watering budget for the displays in these windows, are a far cry from your average undertaker’s window onto the high street. However, moving installation is perhaps one trend any retailer can take from London’s leading stores.

Last Christmas, Harrods windows became Orient Express-style train carriages filled with mannequins modelling the latest seasonal partywear. Behind these beau monde passengers, passing scenes of a Winter Wonderland rolled by the carriage window—video screens creating an illusion of movement along the railway track.

A flat screen at the back of an undertaker’s window could perhaps engage passers by. An uncontroversial video for said screen could perhaps be one of those time lapse videos on a loop: the rising and setting sun; flowers budding into bloom before shedding their petals; the ebb and flow of the tide; a race through the seasons—winter, spring, summer, autumn. All these natural scenes are appropriate, too, provoking thought about life, death and rebirth, the beauty, frailty and eternal optimism of life cycles.

There are also videos of ageing faces morphing from baby, toddler and teen through to the various stages of adulthood. The time lapse video could become synonymous with FDs, rather like those woodland scenes now ubiquitous on FD websites, even those not specialising in eco-funerals.

The eye-catching screen could set the scene for props in the window, too. A time lapse nature scene would be harmonious with displays of, say, wicker and cardboard coffins and urns, generously festooned with wild flowers and foliage.

A display of sleek modernist coffins and urns could be set in a more minimalist backdrop with the screen showing the numerals of a digital clock’s hour, minutes and seconds ticking away. Again, it says something about time passing. Traditional coffins could be accessorised with more formal floral displays beneath a screen of flickering candles, evoking a mood without risking health and safety. A film of poppy fields might serve as the prerequisite WWI anniversary display.

Undertakers’ window displays market not just funeral products and services but brand personality, meaning the display brief is wide open to creative and conceptual ideas.

A window with a lonely coffin and mean flower arrangement in a single vase says, no imagination. And when it remains unchanged for months at a time, it says, no effort, which could be construed as apathetic service, even when this is not the case.

Creative and changing displays attract attention in themselves and also make people anticipate the next visual surprise. It’s worth investing in an artistic window dresser and the props that are the tools of his/her trade in order to build awareness and identity of brand.

Good windows can stimulate sufficient buzz to even inspire media attention, thus doubling up as PR as well as direct marketing to consumers. Even publicity initially criticising a window as controversial can turn into a plus, giving you the opportunity to explain its positive message. Never any harm in thinking out of the box.

Wonderful world

41 years in 60 seconds

The Good Funeral Guide
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