Death Cafe is safe space to talk about life and loss
This summer, Linda Yablonski lost her sister to suicide.
Carla Cullen ran a daycare out of her home. The passion she had for her work was obvious in the time machine that sat in her basement, where every week she and the girls she looked after would transport somewhere new.
They’d visit different historical time periods with props made by Cullen, and Yablonski would help, dressing up as different characters.
She loved helping the girls learn and she admired her sister for going to such lengths to educate and entertain.
“We know that she cares a lot for us because she puts so much time and effort in,” said Jayda Velasquez, one of Cullen’s daycare attendees in a 2016 interview with the Leader-post.
When Cullen died, she left behind notes — notes Yablonski said made the loss a little easier to bear.
“It’s such a bizarre experience, the reactions that I have experienced from people. People that I’ve known for most of my life don’t know what to say,” she said. “They just stammer and say strange things.”
Death is difficult to talk about, especially when it comes to suicide. But if we don’t talk about death, what happens to the memories of those who have passed?
As a way to keep her sister’s memory alive, Yablonski is attending her first Death Cafe on Saturday. Hosted by the Saskatchewan Hospice Palliative Care Association (SHPCA), the Death Cafe is meant to be a safe and relaxed space to talk about life, death, the afterlife and anything else that might come up.
“The goal is to have people embrace the conversation,” said Denise Seguin Horth, a death doula in Regina and volunteer at Regina Wascana Grace Hospice. She will be helping facilitate the event as an SHPCA board member. She said talking about death is still considered somewhat of a taboo, often thought about and experienced in secret.
“With anything that’s sort of a secret, it weighs you down,” she said. “The more we can speak about those secrets, the more we can alleviate that weight.”
Conversations at Death Cafes usually grow out of introductions where participants share what their interests are, whether it be death, funerals, grief, end of life planning or anything else they’re looking to discuss. Seguin Horth said if conversation lulls on Saturday, cards with pre-written questions to prompt more discussion will be on hand.
Questions like what your first experience with death was like or what your legacy would be if you died tomorrow, are just a couple of examples of questions that might come up.
At the beginning of the session the SHPCA will inform participants of the guidelines for the discussion which include having curiosity, but with open-heartedness and no judgment.
“The reason we ask that everyone allow for a safe environment is because sometimes the conversations can be quite delicate,” said Seguin Horth. “It might be someone who is talking about suicide or the loss of a child. We can all learn when we open up and just listen to the other person’s story without judgment.”
Although personal experiences are bound to be part of the conversation, organizers say “it is not a bereavement or grief support setting.”
While a personal experience with death is what compelled Yablonski to sign up for Saturday ’s event, Amber Wolfe’s general interest in death is what led her to attend three Death Cafes in the past.
“I just like finding a safe space where you can openly discuss topics about death in an inclusive environment,” said Wolfe. “It’s surprising the things that come up.”
At her first Death Cafe, participants were split up into groups and conversation was facilitated by cards with pre-written topics on them. She said it was a nice way to ensure everyone had a chance to talk and wasn’t intimidated by alargegroup.
“I think if there’s any fear or denial around death it can help alleviate and mediate that fear by just talking about it and opening your mind,” she said, adding sometimes they talk about new-age death rituals or green burials, ideas people may not have considered before.
“By discussing those things people realize that this realm of death doesn’t have to be so terrifying,” she said.
A past conversation that stands out to her is one about the afterlife where one person spoke about what she believed came after death. “Everyone had different answers,” Wolfe said.
“There’s no one set belief. It’s just open topic and it’s really cool to see what people believe.”
Seguin Horth has been involved with five Death Cafes. She said the most surprising thing is that the conversations don’t just centre on sadness.
“There’s a lot of levity and some giggles and some laughs and we all seem to leave lighter but more fulfilled,” she said.
“You don’t expect that, right? You expect it to be sad and maybe scary and I’ve always left feeling happy.”
Permission to laugh while you’re grieving is something that might come as a relief to Yablonski, who can recall many situations where she’s questioned whether she should laugh or smile at a friend’s joke.
“If I do, does it look like I’m not grieving?” she said. “It’s pretty much torture.”
She’s hoping the Death Cafe is a space where she can feel normal.
The free event runs Saturday from 1 p.m. to 3 p.m. at the Sandra Schmirler Leisure Centre’s Sunrise Library.
Because of limited space, organizers are asking people who are interested to RSVP at info@saskpalliativecare.org.
Seguin Horth is urging anyone who is unable to attend on Saturday to contact organizers anyway, and they can keep people apprised of when and where the next one is set to take place.
Anyone in a rural area who would like a Death Cafe hosted in their community can also contact the SHPCA, which will do their best to accommodate them, she said.