



My advice? Come back in 10 years…
You see I’m only 32, cursed or blessed depending on how you view it, with a baby face so I don’t look my age. When I approached this local funeral director they asked absolutely no questions to find out anything about me or why I wanted be a celebrant, I was just told I looked far too young and that families ‘probably wouldn’t feel confident with someone so young doing a service. Come back in 10 years and we’ll talk about it’. Even now I find it amusing that someone in the funeral industry, surrounded by death and seeing how it comes in every form from old to young, sudden to expected, would advise someone to come back in 10 years. After all, I could have walked out there and got hit by a bus or worse, a deranged granny with an Iceland trolley!
Why did I choose to become a funeral celebrant you may ask? Well, get comfortable dear reader, because I’m about to tell you all about it.
In June 2015 my husband and I discovered we were expecting our first child. My grandmother who I called Nona, my best friend in the world, was in hospital receiving treatment for cancer. She was getting home soon and I had absolutely no reason to think she wouldn’t meet the little bun I was baking.
When we announced the news to her the first thing my beloved Nona asked me was what did I think I was going to have? At this point the ‘baby’ was a tiny blob so we had no way to actually know but I always thought I would have a girl. Nona agreed, she said ‘a wee best pal of your own’. I told her she was my wee best pal of my own. She looked at me and said ‘I won’t be here forever’.
My Nona had this horrible habit of being right. 10 days after I told her my news my best friend died with all of her family by her side. I was bereft. We started planning her funeral, I wanted to carry her. It seemed only right that I carried her to her final resting place when she had carried me (physically, emotionally, financially…) throughout my whole life. My family wouldn’t allow it due to my pregnancy so it was decided I would speak at her service instead. The minister came and we made the arrangements and I set to writing about my best friend and the glue that held my family together, I could have spoke for hours, it’s easy to write about someone you love isn’t it?
The funeral came and I stood up and I told that church full of people why my Nona was our family’s Queen of Sheba. Anyone in that room that didn’t know her well left there knowing about her love for her family, the time she was hiding in her dining room watching ‘gang fighting pigeons’ in her garden and of course the legendary moment she got her head stuck in the gap at side of the tumble dryer. They knew it all. The peace I felt after that day was comforting. I knew we had given her a wonderful send off and we told her story.
Afterwards I had lots of comments about what I wrote and how I spoke. I’m infamous for writing long Facebook posts and I have a great aunt who always told me ‘ You need to do something with your writing’. I never did.
Fast forward to 2017 and once again cancer claimed the life of a much loved family member. This time it was my husband’s step father. He had been in his life over 20 years. He was grandfather to my daughter and she loved him very much, we were all heartbroken. I had known him only 11 years at this point and when his funeral came round I settled myself in the funeral directors and began to listen to the civil celebrant who would tell me everything I didn’t know about this wonderful man. Or so I thought.
On this day I learned some of the most important lessons about being a celebrant without knowing it at the time.
My mother in law was upset after the service, she felt the celebrant didn’t really understand who her husband was. He had taken some facts down incorrectly, he had focused on parts of my father in law’s life that weren’t significant and made them sound more important than they were. He never sent anything to the family to fact check, he never got back in touch after the initial meeting, he just went with what he had and those errors devastated my mother in law as she now felt that the last act of love she could do for her husband and her best friend was to give him a perfect send off and tell his story and that hadn’t been done in her eyes.
She felt a duty to contact the celebrant to thank him. I advised her to let him know of his errors but she was of the opinion that it wouldn’t change anything so why bother.
My father in law loved life, he was always learning new skills and trying new things. He had hobbies that included everything from singing to yoga. He was never afraid to try something new or meet new people. He was amazing. That day of his funeral we as his family made a pact that we would learn something new in his honour. My mother in law told me that I was to train to be a celebrant so no family would ever feel how she did at that point. I agreed I would do it. I had been speaking about it to all my family for a while, now it was time to actually do it.
Have you ever looked into to celebrant training? It’s a minefield. I was bombarded with various training academies, long weekend courses, day courses, courses that lasted months! Prices ranged from £500 to £3000! I was absolutely overwhelmed. All I wanted to do was help grieving families tell their stories. I’m an absolute people person. I’m nosy by nature and I love getting to know people. I love hearing stories of old times, sharing memories that bring a tear and a smile. I love knowing what your granny did as a teenager, what dancing she went to meet your granddad and whether your great grandparents liked him at first. I didn’t need a degree in English, I didn’t need a week long course on how to write a eulogy. I needed people who were like me, who would train me and believe in me and what I could do. I found them.
I was working at a networking event, catering for 12 people who I was convinced (before they had walked through the door) were a cult! I didn’t have a clue what networking was and I was a bit worried I was going to leave that night with a shaved head and a 555 tattoo! Instead, I met the most wonderful group of people. Jim Meldrum arrived, I instantly felt comfortable (not a razor or tattoo needle in sight!) I felt like I had known him before. The rest of the group followed and the meeting started but being busy cooking for them I missed a lot of what they were all speaking about until I heard ‘we’re funeral celebrants’ and my ears pricked up. After the meeting I asked Jim if he could introduce me and that is how I met the angels in the purple cardigans.
The training I received with Cherished Reflections was more than I would ever have got on a long weekend to Timbuktu. I had hands on training, I was taken to meet families, on tours of the crematorium, introduced to the staff and to funeral directors. I was given the skills I needed that I didn’t already have to do the job I absolutely wanted. I loved every minute.
My first funeral came round before I knew it and I met with the family of a 43 year old man. I got a real feel for who he was and was confident in telling his story. It was a great tale of a lovable rogue. A lovable rogue that I felt like I knew after writing his story. After his service a relative approached me and told me she hadn’t seen him for a long time but after listening to me she felt like she knew him all over again. I was elated.
In September last year I was on a break away with my daughter when I got the absolutely devastating news that a lifelong friend had died suddenly. She was 31 and left her husband and 2 young sons. The grief was unbearable. Attending her funeral I listened to her dad, her sister and her mum speak and tell her story. They blew me away with their strength and courage. I was in awe of them. It made me more determined to do my job for the families I worked with. I thought already knew most of her story, she had been my friend for over 25 years but turns out there was so much more to her than the beautiful, smiley soul that once asked ‘where is the Great Wall of China?’
My friend was far too young to lose her life, it wasn’t fair. We as her family and friends were left to deal with the grief but first, she was to have the funeral befitting of her and the person she was. Her parents and sister made sure she got exactly that. Her story told, the lives she touched and the funny stories that made us all laugh through the tears, her family made sure of that. I walked out that day with a sore heart, a very puffy face and the upmost admiration for her family.
Less than a month after my friend died I lost my very much loved Granny, a sudden loss that knocked the stuffing right out of me and my family. We simply weren’t expecting it and somehow it made it all the more painful. We’re a large family, my Granny had 6 kids and more grandkids and great grandkids than we could count. Every time we tried we got a different number! I had 2 funerals to do in the coming days and the day after losing Granny Avril I had to meet a grieving family who had lost a lady not too much younger than her. This was my first true test as a celebrant. Putting my own grief aside to ensure this family had my full attention was difficult but due to my nosy nature the minute I was in there I was all about the lovely lady I was writing about and I got to know her and her family.
The funeral came and went, it was difficult but thanks to the amazing support of Kathleen and Christina I got through it and the subsequent one we did later that afternoon. I was content that I had done a good job for the family even though I could have happily rolled into a ball and hid from the world at times. It was time now to deal with my own grief and support my family during the planning of my Granny’s funeral.
The day I went to the funeral directors to see her was a difficult day. I still can’t really speak too much about losing my Granny so forgive the lack of content here. Her funeral was the most fitting service. It had a live New Orleans band playing, a giant yellow Hook A Duck made out of flowers and an order of service full of photographs showing her life and loves. The most important part? When her children stood and spoke about their Mam. That was the bit that everyone laughed and cried at. My granny had a very full life, she had great friends, a large family and extended family and when my granddad was still alive they travelled all over the world making memories. Her story was told, songs were sung and the band played. Everyone said her funeral was exactly her and it was.
If you can do one thing for the people you love when they die, make sure their story is told. Find out everything you can about them while you have them. I recently seen a video on social media called ‘Interview Your Relatives’ and I think it’s something we should all try because I think we will all be surprised at what we could learn about them.
I absolutely love my job, I deal with families at their most vulnerable and grief does different things to different people but I’m sure you’ll all agree with me that giving your loved one the send off they deserve isn’t about lots of flowers, a fancy casket or pie and peas in a fancy hotel after. It’s about having their story told, memories relived and everyone leaving talking about them with a smile on their face even if their hearts are heavy.
With every day that goes by, every family I meet and every service I perform I am so glad I never took the advice of that very first funeral director. I did come across her again, when I was in saying goodbye to my Granny. She approached me and asked how I was. I told her about my success meeting the ladies from Cherished Reflections and that I had completed a few funerals for families who had no issue with how young I looked and thanked her for looking after my Granny.
I don’t hold grudges. That lady just made me want to prove her wrong and I’m confident now that I have.
So there’s my story of why and how I became a celebrant. If you’re still awake I thank you. This is a story that one day will become part of my story. I hope it will be a long time before that happens but if the last year has shown me anything it’s that we never, ever, know the minute.
Enjoy your life, make memories that will make your story a bestseller.
Nicole x