Good grief: Our chang
Writes on the power of cemeteries and how Kiwis now remember the dead.
Ihave a weird interest in walking through cemeteries. There are stories there — of sick babies, long marriages, lives well lived and lives wasted by war or influenza. I read old headstones and wonder what that person was really like and how the words do little to reflect the individual, six feet under. In hope, rest in peace, and much loved.
They were complicated, weren’t they? They were funny, or clever, could fix tractors or wrap wounds without the soldier even noticing. They birthed 11 children and could always manage to find room for one more visitor. They designed bridges which we drive over every day.
Some old graves are well kempt and visited, still. Some are clearly forgotten.
In Christchurch, many headstones remain cracked and horizontal from the violent quake seven years ago.
I love the sudden jump back in time and the quiet from the hustle of the streets when you drop into Symonds St Cemetery, Auckland’s oldest.
Cemeteries are interesting places; I’m sure I’m not the only one who can overcome the creepiness factor and explore a peaceful cemetery on a sunny afternoon.
Holding a religious ceremony, burying a corpse and marking the grave with a stone may be what early settlers needed to do, but many Kiwi families no longer practice these traditions after a death.
Like all societal practices, our customs are being shaped by the many cultures living here, a growing awareness of the impact our traditions have on the environment, the international shift away from conventional religions, and even new technologies.
Are these evolving practices serving the emotional needs of the ones who are left behind? Do the changes in the way we remember the lives of those who have left this world support the process of grieving?
New Zealand’s cremation rates are high and growing every year. More than 70 per cent of corpses are now cremated and the ashes, called cremains, are either interred to the ground, scattered or stored.
Our views about the environmental impact of decaying corpses and the amount of ground space an entire body takes up are a major factor.
David Capill of Christchurch’s Lamb & Hayward Funeral Directors believes that a person’s decision about whether or not to cremate tends to be quite strong.
“Either they don’t want to think of their loved ones being burnt or rotting in the ground being eaten by worm’. Many families come to us with clear views about this.”
The lower cost of cremation is also a drawcard — between $500 and $1100 versus $700 and $6500 for a burial.
Some are cutting costs by shunning the traditional wooden coffin.
Tauranga company Hope Funerals offers cardboard coffins at $350 which can be painted or decorated with artwork, photos or messages.
They can’t be carried by pallbearers but can be used as a liner inside a hired wooden coffin.
The liner is then removed cremation.
Other families have artwork added to caskets from professionals.
Pomare F Uelese Amosa, a signwriter in Auckland, creates culturalinspired designs on funeral caskets.
The high cost of his mother’s for plain casket got him thinking about ways he could change the look in a way that reflected Pasifika culture.
Rotorua’s Coffin Club has been a pioneer in DIY coffins.
A group of seniors started the club in 2010 to construct their own low-cost coffins.
A wave of similar clubs have since started around New Zealand.
A short documentary was made about the community group, with all the characters singing and dancing musical-style.
When it comes to viewing what’s inside the coffin, Kiwis appear to have a have “a much stronger viewing [of the body] culture than in other countries, and even Australia”, according to Stephen Parkyn, chief executive of Lamb & Hayward.
Some funerals have multiple viewings — mostly closed casket — including taking the body home for people to visit and even talk to with them, as if they are still alive.
Several people I spoke to about how they manage their emotional loss after the death of a person close to them mentioned seeing the body and talking to the deceased were important ways of managing grief.
It’s hard to imagine that New Zealanders’ increasing comfort with viewing the body and addressing their dead is not influenced by the Ma¯ ori tradition of tangihanga, which includes several days of celebrations on the marae.
People at tangi speak frankly to and about the deceased, the tu¯pa¯paku. Singing, storytelling and joking — are also expected.
Sally Pitama, Nga¯i Tahu, explains that the tradition of speaking to the tu¯pa¯paku normalises death and will assist those who are left behind.
“Death is a part of living,” she says, “and it does help us to speak directly to the dead. If we can show others, especially children, that we are okay with it, we are much better off.”
Today’s practices after death include a better understanding of the sorrow experienced after the passing of someone in our lives.
“Grief does not get done at the funeral,” says Capill.
“It begins at the funeral. A lot of people don’t know what to do at this time. It’s their first experience of death of a loved one, and they don’t know where to start. Our role is to guide them through this, and to seek to understand what they want to have happen to honour that life.”
Capill says funerals now can take on a variety of formats and there has been a move away from the formally structured ceremonies of the past, where a member of the clergy leads the funeral through various hymns, prayers and scripture readings.
Many Kiwis now organise less prescriptive events, led by a celebrant rather than clergy, and involve, for example, live-streaming to include loved ones in other parts of the world, alternative locations such as beaches, backyards or parks, and testimonials from mourners which are frank and open, rather than only prescribed readings.
By tailoring the funeral service to the specific needs of the loved ones, “we are influencing how their grief begins”, Capill says.
“If you begin it well, you have a better chance of grieving better later on.”
Capill believes that loved ones should acknowledge their authentic emotions about the deceased, no matter what those feelings are.
“People often keep their emotions in check leading up to the funeral. During the funeral, emotions really start pouring out. There’s a moment when the casket is carried out when people can see that it will be the last physical con-
If you begin it well, you have a better chance of grieving better later on. David Capill