Bruce Wadd

The tears flowed freely, piercing the silence of the chapel. The coffin was in place, the mourners had assembled and had lit their candles to say farewell to their loved yet tormented twenty seven year old.

The eulogy spoke of a talented individual, a private school girl who had every opportunity in life. She had achieved many goals, seen many things, loved and been loved by many family and friends, but nothing could break the heaviness of the silence… that overwhelming silence that wreaked of youth, of unfinished dreams and unrealised goals.

‘She was just too young…’ came a comment from an older friend. It spoke for all present, and released the guilt felt by most… that guilt of whether to be thankful or not.

But by the end of the tributes, family and friends could delight in the privilege of having known this beautiful young lady, despite the torment, and the ultimate choice she had made to exit the pain.

The final euthanasia is suicide…

and I can understand the choice,

and hear the pain of those left behind.

My suggestion: Resist the temptation to think of goals not achieved, a life not lived, but rather focus on the memories your loved one brought to your life… there are many!

The emotions were overflowing, the intense pride and respect for the one departing were quite overwhelming… and it wasn’t the audience, family or friends. No, it was me as the funeral celebrant. I was having real difficulty ‘keeping it together, and I didn’t really know why.

By the closing words the tears were right at the surface, and rather than deny them, I merely stood back, for a moment, acknowledged them, and then proceeded as I was able.

My question to you… is that good? Should we as professionals always maintain a cold and clinical edge, or should our humanity show through, sometimes at the most inopportune times?

I would love to hear your comments. What is the best kind of person to work with in this delicate time, when farewelling those you love? What do you need?

From a long term and sustainable approach, I am so thankful I have friends that I can trust to listen to my overflow, my dribble, my indulgence of words as I unpack the day.

[Thanks to those who share the coffees and phone calls… YOU KNOW WHO I MEAN!]

HINT: Keepin’ it real takes everything you are!

Some funerals are solemn yet happy occasions where family and friends come together to remember the wonderful years of a treasured life.

But sometimes the occasion overflows with tears. Nanna, at eighty six, had passed away, not unexpected, and when I arrived and chatted to the funeral staff everything was ready to go.

Then as the music played, the eulogy was read and the memories began to flow all ages started to overflow with emotion. The tears came, the crescendo increased during the reflection moment, till the final song played. The Anniversary Waltz, a treasured favourite, played in honour of the family’s matriarch. It was too much… and everyone just sat, stunned by the emotions of the moment.

It is so important to say goodbye, to let whatever emotions arrive have their moment, their opportunity to be heard, because then you’ve allowed the grief a space and time to speak.

My suggestion: Grief is as natural as the rain. It comes and goes, and just needs voice. Let it speak, when it desires voice, and despite its discomfort, it allows to get on with life!

They say that, “…funerals and weddings bring out the best and worst in people”, that secrets and true intentions are revealed. Well, my time as a funeral celebrant has certainly confirmed this saying.

I have sat at many a kitchen table and listened to families share stories of their loved one, sometimes with great love and respect. And at other times, the words not spoken, the spaces between the lines scream loudly of other things, of lies, conceit and despair.

So what should you do when a death reveals all, when misfortune and untruth is finally brought to the surface? You are merely presented with more of the truth.

Time will see the best and the worst, of emotion, of pain, of joy and bliss.

My suggestion: Allow the best and worst to speak. They have made up the fabric of life thus far, and this moment in time, with your loved one passing, gives you a choice, an opportunity to change, to head in a different direction and embrace a new reality!

Nicholas was only 18 months and sitting innocently on his father’s knee, in the third row back from his great grandmother’s coffin. Something caught his attention and his simple chuckle increased in volume till everyone in this intimate occasion couldn’t help but pause, turn and smile.

He’d managed to get everyone’s attention and unintentionally reminded everyone of something incredibly powerful – that despite death, life continues!

Yes, it is important to say goodbye. But it is equally important to be reminded, thank you Nicholas, that life goes on!

My suggestion: get around kids, because their innocence and love of life always puts a smile on your face and a good spirit in your heart.

The tears flowed.
The warmth overflowed.
The conversations continued.

The conclusion of the service brought that harsh realization of their patriarch’s departure. He was finally gone. Various family and friends needed to hang around for a time, just chatting, crying, hugging, consoling each other and touching the coffin, remembering the special things this man had brought to their lives. The choked laughter and dribbling tears were just part of the process.

It was beautiful.
It was necessary.
It was decidedly human.

But as I stood to the side, witnessing this wonderful moment, I found myself unable to resist the question – what has been left behind? So much love, so much pride, so much life to live for. There was no deficit here, only the strength, with a heritage to carry forward.

My question to myself [and to you…] – What will I leave behind? What’s the heritage deep within my life I want to share with others as the gift of my days on this earth?

HINT: You have a heritage. Make sure it’s what you want to leave behind!

Robert could have said, ‘my dad’ or ‘my old man’ or ‘that bloke’, but chose to use the words, “our dad”, spoken with chest out, standing straight, with a smile, proclaiming loudly words about his father.

The audience, predominantly family, knew who was being eulogized, someone who made simple life choices, provided through hard work for his family, and had only lately discovered the value of healthy relationship.

But the seeds had been sown, and on behalf of the family this spokesman could proudly declare fond memories of a man he loved and respected, holding realistic aspirations of following his father’s footsteps.

There is strength gained by gathering to farewell a relative or friend, even when knowing the faults, struggles and challenges throughout their life.

For those choosing to gather, past negatives can be farewelled and positives (hints of gold always remain if you look hard enough!) can be taken and sown into the future!

HINT: Choose carefully what you hang onto… it will make [OR BREAK] your life!

Out pounding the pavements pre-dawn as I often do, this time I was walking along a bush track. My dog was off leash and doing what it does well – sniffing everything with interest.

As I watched him for a few seconds I saw something I hadn’t really noticed before – a huge continuing smile on his face. He was in his element, just happy to his core, doing what he was made to do!

Without using too much dog-human psychology, let me ask you – when was the last time you had a huge smile across your face, without realizing it?  When were you just happy, naturally, no drugs or extreme stuff going on? Rather, you were doing what you really loved doing?

Many times I have laid to rest people that had worked all their lives, lived simply, but you just knew they were happy. And then at other times, you could tell, often by what wasn’t spoken of by the family or friends, that this person really wasn’t content in their skin.

How about you? Constant smile today? Hints of it? Or is the frown on your forehead a dead giveaway for someone that needs to embrace a different direction?

HINT: Take the time to look back, to look deep inside and ask that question – what was I made to do?

The painting of Matt stood to one side, his Fender on the other and in between a plain coffin holding his remains. The sadness of this Gen X passing was obvious – their was profound silence in the room, but his music allowed a gentle beginning, a softening of those who struggled to face the grief of goodbye.

As a funeral celebrant I was doing my role of facilitation, but to listen to the four speakers, his sister and three mates, talk of a uniqueness of this man and how he’d impacted their lives was incredibly powerful.

It wasn’t a list of achievements, a myriad of success points, not even an account of his birth, family history, schooling achievements or career highlights. Rather, the words shared were of a more personal, from a depth that not everyone reaches. Matt was honoured!

He had touched lives he possibly hadn’t recognized during his time on this earth, and had just been a genuine friend, someone who cared, someone who listened, someone who spoke up when needed, someone who was more silent than outspoken.

HINT: Be who you really are… you will make a difference!

You are reading words written by a funeral celebrant, an Australian bloke that’s been around a while, someone interested in helping others at a very significant time in their lives.

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This blog is simply designed to reach people who have lost someone close to them, and are journeying through life with this new reality. LifeMatters is designed to inform, encourage, inspire and even challenge you at times!

I am honoured to have you join me for a time, to make comments, and you may consider becoming a guest writer at some point down the track.

But more than anything, I want you to know… that LifeMatters! Live it well!!