Celebrants are Human Too!
On Saturday, I received a received a card in the post, which really affected me and made me think about what I do and how I feel about it all. I understood a little more of my own mental processes and how I react to praise and criticism.
Funerals are emotionally charged events; that goes without saying. What isn’t quite so obvious is that everyone involved gets caught up in that emotion, even though they may not show it.
I took a funeral last week, there’s nothing too remarkable in that, other than that it was at slightly shorter notice than usual and it was my first where I had not been able to meet the family face-to-face.
Having to conduct all of the ‘meetings’ over the telephone (I haven’t done a video conferencing one yet) changes the whole feel of the process of preparing for the funeral. A family meeting is a very special time; I have found that the families really appreciate the time I spend with them and, in turn, I get a lot out of it — I could almost say that I enjoy those meetings.
The opportunity for that special time has been lost due to the Coronavirus outbreak and it is frustrating in several ways. The family lose the benefit of talking to the celebrant in the relaxed way that usually happens and I found it more difficult to get ‘ the feel’ of the person whose funeral I was to take; I couldn’t get a mental picture of him.
This time, I was able to get that picture, because a family member who wanted to speak wrote an excellent tribute. It wasn’t biographical in the way that my tribute has to be, it was a description of the man he knew — a superb picture of him, of the way the family felt about him and of the way other people saw him. All of a sudden, I could see him in my mind.
I spoke to family members on the telephone and had exchanged emails. Over the course of a couple of days it all came together.
On the morning, I arrived early, checked the music on the sound system and laid out my copy of the script. I had already read through it aloud, twice, and made a mental note of where the emphases would go and where the tongue traps lay, waiting to trip me up.
The family arrived, I spoke to the funeral director and met the family properly for the first time — which felt just a little awkward, especially as we couldn’t really see each other’s faces and we couldn’t shake hands, the only formal physical contact the British are allowed in such situations. Then we got underway.
There were a couple of lighter moments and I was relieved that, whilst not being wholehearted, there was a little laughter. There were tears too and so my two main markers for getting the tone right were achieved. At the end, we made polite remarks to each other and at the right time, I withdrew and the family made their way.
A couple of days later, a card arrived in the post. As well as gratitude, it contained the phrases ‘… unstuffy yet thoughtful and reflective.’ and ‘… you definitely delivered!’
When I read it, it brought tears to my eyes. It was exactly the compliment I needed, expressed with the phrases that told me all I needed to know, especially in the aftermath of my previous funeral.
I had taken the previous funeral for an undertaker with whom I had not worked before. There are people you meet who seem perfectly suited to the job they do and they do it well, there are some who one meets and feel that, even if they are not perfectly suited to their job, they still work at achieving the best they can. Then there are those people you meet in a professional capacity and you know that they are not and probably never will be suited to the career that they have chosen. Maybe they know that too.
At the end of the funeral, the family seemed very pleased with what I had done, they expressed this on the terrace and then a couple of emails arrived, echoing those sentiments. I felt pleased with that, even though it was one of those ceremonies where my personal assessment would have been that there were a few small issues upon which I should concentrate and try to improve. There are few people whose greatest critic is not themselves.
I returned home and chatted to my wife, remarking that I was pleased the funeral had been outside of my usual area as it was unlikely that I would have to work with that funeral director again.
A couple of days later, I was informed that a complaint had been put in to my professional body about my performance and professionalism by that funeral director. He stated that he would never work with me again.
It is just so frustrating when you can’t get your retaliation in first! However, my wife reminded me that I had already said I never wanted to work with him again, so now I didn’t have to worry. The reality is that I wouldn’t have complained about him unless he had upset the family and I didn’t think that he had.
Criticism of the funeral into which I had put so much effort touched quite a raw nerve. I guess it’s bound to. He had criticised the very thing that I have been and always will be striving to perfect — I didn’t need his criticism, my own is quite sufficient. Particularly criticism by someone whose lack of professionalism and whose hectoring manner been quite unsettling at the time. Fortunately, the family had not noticed — I know because I asked them.
That’s why I was so touched by the card telling me that I had achieved the right tone, balance and delivery for which I always aim. After all, underneath it all, even I am human.
