If you have more time with the body, it’s easier to understand the person has really gone
OneFamily. But for many families, the expense isn’t as bad as the clinical way death is often dealt with.
Poppy Mardall is one of a new generation of funeral directors who help relatives have more time with their loved ones at home, if that’s what they want.
‘When people ring up undertakers, the whole process starts to move very fast,’ she says.
‘Undertakers think they have to act like paramedics and be there as soon as possible. But for the relatives, that might be the last time they see their loved one.
‘We say: “We can be there in an hour if you like. But if you’d want some more time, we can come back in a few hours, or tomorrow or even the next day after that.”
‘You very quickly get a sense of what people want.
‘Some will say: “Well, my brother is coming down from Scotland in the morning. It would be really nice for him to see Dad, so maybe let’s wait.” Others will say: ‘No, we’re exhausted. It’s time to bring this to an end. What most will say is: “We didn’t realise we could keep him or her a bit longer”.’
It’s also a myth that bodies have to be refrigerated, adds Poppy. Instead, placing the ice packs you find in cooler bags on the person’s abdomen, where the main changes take place, is usually enough to allow bodies to be kept at home for up to ten days.
‘It means that by the time we arrive, there is a very powerful sense that the family has chosen to let the dead person go,’ she says. ‘There is a calmness, which is different to how it feels if the body is taken away suddenly.’
For Claire Kelly, being able to say goodbye to her friend Angelique Palombo in her own time was a blessedly different experience from the de-personalised way her mother’s death was handled.
Claire, 45, from Glastonbury, Somerset, said: ‘My mother, Shirley, died aged 61 in hospital when I was 24. She’d been ill for a year with an aggressive form of cancer. When she died, the medical staff covered her with a sheet and we had to leave. I never saw her again. I had years of not being able to make sense of my grief.’
When Angelique, a 51-year-old fine artist, died last January, also of cancer, Claire spent the day with her friend’s body — and found it far more comforting.
Massage therapist Claire said: ‘When she passed, the friends who were at the house didn’t ask the undertaker to come and get her. Instead, they phoned the rest of the group, and we all gathered at Angelique’s home.
‘She had requested we keep her body for a bit and had written a few things down in a little book. For example, she asked to be put in her favourite dress.
‘Angelique cared enormously about her appearance, so we also painted her toenails red, brushed her hair and decorated it with red flowers. She loved lipstick, too, so we said: “Put on her red lipstick. She’s got to look fantastic!”’
BECAUSE it was all so alien to the traditional way of doing things, Claire and her friends had to reassure each other they were doing the right thing.
‘We had to constantly check with each other: “Is this OK? Are we allowed to do this?”
‘Of course, there were lots of tears and talking about her life as well. Towards the end of the afternoon, we started to reach a consensus about when to let her go. We rang the undertaker to collect her that evening.
‘When it came to her funeral, there was a different atmosphere. It was a celebration, rather than being sombre.’
For Claire, it was also an experience which showed her that death can be handled in a way which can help those left behind.
‘I think that if you have more time with the body of the person you loved, it’s easier to understand,’ she says.
‘Spending some time with her afterwards helped us all to realise that she had gone elsewhere.’