Organising a funeral is a job no one wants. All you can do is your best and hope they would have liked it
When he’s on air, Sky’s Colin Brazier is the epitome of the presenter who delivers the news and doesn’t become part of it.
No inflammatory tweets or opinions, merely a composed professional with a background in reporting from the word’s hot spots. But this week Colin found himself making the news when he wrote an article about the impending funeral of his wife, who died of breast cancer at the age of 55.
He requested that mourners “leave their Hawaiian shirts and pink helium balloons at home”.
His plea that people wear black was motivated not only by his own feelings but that of his children (he has six), arguing that the idea of “celebrating” a life was hard to children mired in grief.
His words sparked a debate, mainly because in recent years we’ve all become a bit confused as to what a funeral should actually be. God knows it’s a personal choice – but even that’s up for debate. What does God have to do with it? Not much, according some.
Only this week, a report by Scotland’s inspector of crematoria noted the growing number of non-believers who want crosses and other religious symbols removed from funerals. There’s no denying we are becoming a more secular society, but I don’t think it’s the diminution of religion that’s driving a rethink of how we say goodbye, merely the fact we now have a choice.
There used to be a template that just about every funeral followed: a sombre gathering involving a short synopsis of a life, some readings and the obligatory Abide With Me.
The only variation was the standard of food and drink on offer at the wake. When I was growing up and my parents returned from a funeral, there was no greater accolade than the declaration that the purvey had been a good one.
In the last few hundred years, the changes in funeral rituals have been surprisingly small. For example, I had no idea that the famous first line of the WH Auden poem used so poignantly in the film Four Weddings And A Funeral, was based on a real superstition. When someone died people did “stop all the clocks” in the room to prevent bad luck.
For those who have a religion, it must be a great comfort, but it’s the rise of the “happy” funeral that’s marked the biggest change and it’s that celebration of a life that Colin Brazier takes issue with.
I think the move towards not just saying a sad goodbye to someone who has died, but trying to convey the essence of the person who lived, is actually an attempt to combine two events – a funeral and a memorial.
Traditionally only the great and good were deemed to be befitting of memorials. But in our more equal society, who’s to say that Auntie Mary doesn’t merit that same sort of appreciation of her life just because she didn’t have any letters after her name? And if time and probably money make the idea of a separate memorial event difficult, a funeral is the only place to combine the two.
It’s that fusion that I think has also led to the increased popularity of funeral celebrants.
In the past there was no option but to employ the services of a local minister – even though the deceased hadn’t set foot in a place of worship for decades.
And while there are men and women of the cloth who can carry out an empathic or humorous service, if that’s what you want, they are bound by constraints, namely a belief in the big man upstairs.
Organising a funeral is a job no one wants, you just do what you can and hope your loved one would have liked it.