I was asked to write some thoughts about the recent/current global pandemic and its impact on the cultural process of death and dying. Not only how it has affected those suffering the grief of losing a loved one prematurely, as well as those who are working hard to support the affected families but also those who are running a business that exists to fund the employment of staff and meet the running costs and make enough of a profit to invest and grow their facilities for the future as well.
Just one more in a long list of words and comments about the impact on C-19 on our lives at home and at work…
Or not.
I don’t know about you but to be honest, but the last thing I’d like to read about is yet another talking head, pontificating on how Covid has created changes, trauma, challenges or how we’ve risen above it, answering the calls above and beyond etc.
Other than the simplification (long overdue and long may it remain) of bureaucracy and paperwork, the lowly funeral director has seen very little impact from the pandemic. It’s really been business as usual – albeit a little more hectic at times. There’s been no furlough, no lockdown, no working from home. The roads perhaps were much quieter for a while but that soon started to creep back to normal after the first lockdown eased in 2020.
What I have noticed is a change in the way many families approach the creation of a service and being much more creative in their approach. People are open to more flexible ideas and ways of commemorating the loss of someone close despite the restrictions that have been placed upon them.
But what remains the same regardless of anyone’s approach, external influences or creative funeral arrangements is the underlying grief. The catastrophic tearing of the fabric of your life when someone within the family dies.
It doesn’t matter how supportive friends and family can be, when someone you love is taken away – at the end of a long life, an illness, a tragic accident or through their own choosing – nothing can prepare you for the emptiness left behind.
The days stretch out ahead and as in the words of one beautifully simple, yet utterly profound poem by the American writer W. S. Merwin called “Separation”.
Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its colour.
The shock of grief is rarely lessened by expectation of its arrival.
And then, at the time when the hurting is at its most intense and the rawness of the loss almost too much to bear, we ask the grief stricken to come and sit in the sterile, soft carpeted and blandly decorated ‘family room’ to begin to discuss the arrangements for the funeral service.
I know from my own experience that no matter how well meaning and gentle the arranger might be, and however much we might try to focus on what’s being said, within 30 minutes most of the words spoken and heard will be lost in the haze of the moment.
A professional funeral arranger will know how to open themselves enough to connect emotionally and yet still maintain a level of objectiveness to enable them to do what they need to do. And from the gentle discussion, feel an away forward towards the direction that will best suit the family. Then, based on responses to their open questions, guide the family towards options that might best fit the character of the person who has died as well as that of the family.
From the perspective of the arranger, it can be a fine line to draw, and it can be so easy to allow yourself to connect too deeply with the grief and emotions running through the conversations. Especially if you can identify at a personal level in any way.
One of the best funeral arrangers I met was back when I was first contemplating setting up my own independent business. I went to see and meet with other funeral directors in the region to get guidance and advice.
One, in Totness in Devon, invited me to sit in their family area whilst we chatted about the challenges of setting up a funeral business from scratch. The area, just away from the reception didn’t have subtle shades of grey and muted colour and soft furnishings. Instead, it was a circular wooden table where everyone sat equally. Along the wall was a kitchen like area, worktop, cups and mugs, a kettle and microwave.
When I mentioned the slightly unusual styling, they simply explained that when they meet with families in their homes to make the initial arrangements, 9 times out of 10 everyone gathers around the dining room or kitchen table. Large pots of tea, coffee and biscuits are available to hand, and everyone will feel slightly more at ease in less formal surroundings. It made sense then, to invite grieving families into somewhere similar.
But in the deepest moments of loss, no amount of surface decoration will make any real difference. But what will be remembered – If not the details of the conversation – will be the empathy and compassion that they found in the arranger’s style. Their ability to keep things simple and flexible, without being too formal and uncompassionate.
It might be the 23rd funeral arrangement meeting they’ve conducted this year, but to those there, in their moment of grief, it’s the only meeting that has ever mattered.
In many FD’s business’ the role of the Funeral Director is often seen as the most important person in the company. In our company, the highest paid member of the team is the Arranger.
Happily, semi-retired
