Closure through Ceremony by Emily VanLaeys, Celebrant

     

       Now that we're in our sixties a day rarely goes by that we don't see someone our age or younger in the obituaries of our small town newspaper. Mark's mom died at 80 and his dad at 87. My parents, both 90, are still alive, so longevity is in our genes. But we can't help noticing how people our age (and younger) seem to be dropping like flies. And so, we're starting to think about the kind of memorial service we want to request at the time of our demise.

       Recently I mentioned this to my sister-in-law who responded: "I won't care what my memorial service will be like. I'll be dead."

       I guess a lot of people feel that way, but whenever I attend a funeral I can't help thinking about the parts I do and don't like and how I want it to be different when I die. Maybe it's because I'm a life-cycle celebrant, and meaningful rituals and ceremony are important to me. 

       Most of the church funerals I attend are pretty similar. The minister will read verses from the Bible to remind us that our loved one has been taken into heaven to live with Jesus. Hymns are sung, prayers are said, and often Communion is shared. The service seems to be more about the Christian faith than it is about the person whose life we want to celebrate. Sometimes the minister's address will include stories from his or her own experiences with death rather than stories about our departed friend. Then there is (usually) a time set aside for family and friends to share memories of the deceased. Sometimes this is the only personal part of the service and it may be long or short depending on how talkative the participants are.

       The services I have attended at funeral homes are similar to a church service although usually shorter. In both cases the life and personality of the departed is usually honored more at the reception than during the ceremony. Photographs and treasured mementos are often displayed for mourners to look at while they sip coffee and nibble on cookies.

       Sometimes people request that there not be any calling hours or funeral after they die. I believe this request robs their loved ones of the closure that a ceremony provides. However, if the ceremony doesn't focus on the life of their loved one, it may not provide sufficient closure anyway. I remember attending the funeral of a neighbor who died at the age of 42, leaving two young boys behind. One of the boys spoke briefly during the service, but most of it had absolutely nothing to do with my friend. When the pallbearers carried her coffin out of the church I felt like screaming: "NO! Wait! You haven't honored her life yet. It can't be over!"

       I think that nearly everyone has different beliefs about death and what happens after we die. That's why using the same words for every funeral doesn't feel right to me. A memorial service or celebration of life should reflect the personality and beliefs of the person being honored. This can be done if the celebrant takes the time to talk to the family, learn about the interests and beliefs of the deceased, and weave them into a story to share at the ceremony. Rituals can include candles to symbolize the person's spirit, mementos shared by loved ones during the ceremony, or in the Native American tradition, breaking a cup to symbolize the release of the person's spirit. These are just a few examples of different ways to honor a loved one, but the possibilities are endless once we start thinking outside the box. 

       I am still considering ideas for my own service, such as music and poetry that reflects my beliefs about life - the one I'm experiencing now, and the one that lies ahead. I understand why a lot of people just want to focus on the here and now, and not concern themselves with what will happen when they're gone. But I do believe you'll do your loved ones a favor by leaving them some ideas for a ceremony that will help them feel that your life was honored when it's time to say farewell. 

Emily VanLaeys is a certified life-cycle celebrant in Oneonta, New York. She provides end-of-life ceremonies throughout New York State.       
       

Tea, Cake, and Death Chat with Emily VanLaeys, Celebrant

       

       "In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes," goes the famous quote by Benjamin Franklin. I would add that death and taxes are two of the things that unite us all, except that some people don't pay their fair share of taxes, and some deaths are a lot easier than others.

       Facing death is something that every single person on earth has to do at one time or another, so you might say death helps to build bridges of oneness. In spite of the fact that we all face death, many avoid the topic at all costs. We avoid the words "death" and "died" by saying that someone has "passed" when they leave their earthly body. 

      If you've been to a cemetery burial recently you will have noticed the green covering over the open grave that's intended to shield families from the reality of the hole in the ground where their loved one's body will be laid. 

       Other ways that we avoid the reality of death include the embalmer's attempt to make a corpse appear to be alive, and the medical profession's attempts to keep patients alive long past their due dates.

       Because of the overwhelming reluctance of people to discuss death, in spite of the fact that we have to plan for its inevitability, life-cycle celebrants around the world have begun to host Death Cafés. A Death Café is a place where people gather to drink tea, eat cake, and talk about death. You can learn more about them at: http://deathcafe.com/.

       I have yet to attend a Death Café, but the other night I participated in a teleconference where celebrants in widespread locations pretended to attend a Death Café together. Our leader, Charlotte Eulette, director of the Celebrant Foundation & Institute, asked us to imagine passing a "talking baseball" (instead of the traditional talking stick) as we took turns answering questions about death. This method worked well for a teleconference, but usually the facilitator of a Death Café does not present specific questions or topics. If you attend a Death Café participants will probably share whatever their thoughts and feelings may be. 

       I haven't decided whether or not I want to host a Death Café in Oneonta. It seems like a good idea, but one that will require a lot of planning and preparation. A Death Café might be a good way to promote a feeling of oneness among people in a community. And death is a topic of particular interest to life-cycle celebrants because we do create and perform personalized and meaningful celebrations of life in addition to the weddings and baby namings we are usually known for. 

       I believe that most people have unique beliefs and experiences about death and dying. This is why it's important that we have the opportunity to express our thoughts and feelings on the subject. And when it comes time to memorialize the life of a departed loved one, we should be able to do it with a ceremony that truly reflects who that person was and how they would wish to be remembered. Having a celebrant-led memorial service or celebration of life can be the best way to do this. To learn more see: Celebrant Memorials or http://celebrantinstitute.org/?p=funerals.

Emily VanLaeys is a certified life-cycle celebrant in Oneonta, New York. She provides end-of-life ceremonies throughout New York State.