THE WIND PHONE

Living Funerals Are for The Dying

The importance of shared grief

Emily Lawrence
The Wind Phone

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a couple conforting each other
Photo by Transly Translation Agency on Unsplash

My partner's friend Kate is dying. Soon. They have been friends since they were around 15 years old. Kate is one of the main reasons he is doing the job he is now. She convinced him to go to a specific university when he was in his 30’s that really gelled with him in a way the university he went to at 19 didn’t. He ended up with a BSc, an MSc, and a PhD. He’s now a university lecturer. Would he have got there anyway, maybe, but Kate definitely gave him the nudge he needed to change direction and take a chance.

And now Kate has a really aggressive form of cancer. She is 49, she has a seven-year-old daughter, and she has a few weeks left with her.

Kate has been on really aggressive medication for a few months now; her daughter, who isn’t fully aware of the situation and is maybe too young to fully grasp the finality of death says to her: “Mummy, I can’t wait for you to stop taking the pills and be fun like other mummies.” Excuse me while I suture my heart back together. We all know what Kate stopping taking the pills means, and it won’t be fun.

So Kate has decided to have a living funeral in a couple of weeks. I, like many people have never been to one of these and I’m curious as to the structure, what will be expected of us, and whether we bring gifts (I’d think no, but?). My biggest question is this as well, or instead, of a traditional funeral? The last time I went to a funeral of a contemporary who knew she was dying I spent a lot of it thinking, I wish she could hear how much we loved her and miss her.

The stories people told, the memories shared and the laughter were all nourishing. Laughter always seems such an odd sound for a funeral, disrespectful and not the right tone, but how can you reminisce about a dear friend you shared joy with without laughing. I hope everyone spends my funeral in absolute fits.

Funerals are for people to share grief for a loved one lost. We also feel grief for a loved one about to die of course, arguably it’s even harder on the heart as you cant start to heal, just wait. But there is something final about the actual death of someone that requires companionship, so I would say yes, we will still have a traditional funeral.

What’s the point of the living funeral then? To celebrate their life, yes, of course, to say goodbye in person to someone while they can still hear it, also yes. To tell them all the things we love about them and will miss? Well, now that’s where it’s difficult, we are British after all, that just isn’t in our DNA. If we could do that then we wouldn’t need a ceremony for it, we would just tell her every time we see her we love her and will miss her. Or actually is that too melancholic, better just to pretend all is well, stiff upper lip and all that. So the living funeral will be what? A time for us all to wallow in our misery, to wail and hold each other and share.

I kind of hope so; it sounds cathartic. But I know it won’t. It will be a party. We will have music and food and drink, lots of drink, and then we will go home feeling sad. Then we will all reconvene in a few weeks and do it all again, just with one significant person missing. If funerals are for the living, then living funerals are for the dying.

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