Saying Goodbye with a Difference
Advertorial Content in collaboration with Sun Life Funeral Planning
No one enjoys a funeral do they. Or at least how we’re told that we should feel. When we lose someone that we love, the funeral itself can be a somewhat surreal experience. The huge sense of loss and sadness, coupled with the fact that pretty much your entire family and friends gather together to pay their respects. At my Mum’s funeral, I remember feeling a huge mix of emotions from extreme sadness to being incredibly proud. Proud of the crowds of lives that my Mum’s presence had somehow touched during her life, happy to see how many people loved and cared for her, and almost guilty that she hadn’t been able to enjoy the gathering herself. I remember sitting at the wake tucking into an incredibly good buffet, which also somehow felt a little inappropriate to admit and thinking “Wow, Mum would’ve absolutely loved this”.
Despite what the movies might suggest and the fact that to this day most people wear black to a funeral, I actually don’t think that funerals should be a somber affair. For me personally, the sad part – the loss, has already happened. From my point of view the funeral itself should be somewhat of a celebration – obviously not that they have gone, but that they were simply here in the first place. I had 30 amazing years with my Mum, and I am so thankful for that. I know that many aren’t so lucky.
Whilst my Mum’s funeral was relatively traditional, my sister and eye both injected some colour into our outfits, we played a line dancing song as the parting music (an incredibly upbeat and fast paced track which was one of my Mum’s favourite dances), and at my Nan’s, the speeches centered more around her creation of the World’s Finest pickled onions than they did about her waning health in recent years. People laughed, people smiled and people left with a smile on their faces.
Whenever I attend a funeral, which sadly as I get older becomes a more common affair, people will say to me “I hope it goes as well as it can do”. It’s their attempt at being supportive, expecting you to be dreading the event or wishing that you didn’t have to experience it at all. Bizarrely, its sometimes actually the contrary. I enjoy hearing that person’s story, learning little snippets of their past that I may not have known from the small window where our paths have crossed. I enjoy learning about their childhood, their upbringing, and the experiences they had that helped them to become the person that we knew and loved. When my Uncle Mike passed away, I felt bloody proud to be sat their among the crowd when they talked about his contributions to sport and athletics. He quite literally shaped the path of many of his student’s future and what an amazing legacy to leave.
When my time comes, which I obviously hope is a long long way away, I don’t want people to be dreading the day of my funeral. I want anecdotes, funny stories, embarrassing tales of the stupid things I have done along the way. I want people to hear about the challenges I have overcome, the kindness I have spread, and the contributions I have made, hopefully bringing joy to the lives of others. I want my family and friends to wear bright colours, tuck into cocktails and rice crispie cakes and look at photos boards hung up on the walls of my happy moments, the memories and the joyful times – bloody loads of them. I want a celebration of the life I lead.
Whilst none of us like talking about funerals, you can if you wish plan your funeral in advance to have whatever you like, whether that’s a memory tree, a balloon release, or wearing a Star Wars T shirt to the ceremony (that one’s for you Rich!). Making your guests smile is a great way to be remembered!
What’s the most unique funeral you have been to?
