Celebrate the lives of loved ones

FOR years I’ve written much about death, made speeches for bereavement charities — but I’m still learning.

This week we celebrated my mother’s life and mourned her death at a beautiful small funeral in Bath, and now I feel relieved and released.

I’ve understood how important it is to view a death in somebody else’s family as one that affects us all — in the sense that the great poet John Donne meant with, ‘Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind . . .’

That lesson began with all the cards, letters and emails, expressing sympathy and love — reinforcing my awareness that any death must be acknowledged. So yes, do send that card — it will be treasured.

Because I dreaded the chapel being almost empty, I invited friends, even though they might only have met Mum once. How comforting I found their dear faces — reminding me that even though you might dread the thought of a funeral, you go along to support the living as well as honour the dead. So yes, do make an effort and turn up — it matters.

But I wouldn’t have wished a sad event on them. No, my mother’s funeral was joyful — all themed around the dancing (ballroom and tap) she loved all her life. In her heyday she was a brilliant little mover!

So the unique coffin I designed was made of bright white cardboard, with dancers in black silhouette all the way around, and a mound of dazzling orange and pink flowers on top.

Her two grandchildren and I recalled loving memories, of course, and my niece, brilliant jazz singer Kate Dimbleby, gave a medley of Fred Astaire songs I’d chosen: ‘I Won’t Dance, Don’t Ask Me . . . Let’s Face The Music And Dance’ etc.

How joyful it all was, evoking Mum’s lifelong spirit of fun, not her recent frailty. It’s a fine last gift for elderly loved ones — to create an event which recalls life, not death. To pray and give thanks for a merry soul.