We need to show our support

It’s about time I put myself out there and shouted that yes, I AM happy to create your ceremony no matter who you are. I always have been, and have had many happy days creating ceremonies for same-gender couples. (All women as it happens, I’ve no idea why.) Basically “Love is love” is our LGBTQIA+ policy. But for reasons I’ll explain, it’s taken until now to give myself permission to publicise this fully.

I haven’t felt the need to write about my support of the LGBTQIA+ community. I hadn’t, until now, placed rainbow flags on my website. I’ve always lived in very rural places (West Wales now France) as a celebrant. There’s been no opportunity to attend “alternative” wedding fairs or have a wide circle of gay friends to vouch for my allyship (is that a word?). I’ve had gay friends of course, but this was simply part of everyday life. No big deal.

Something’s changed.

But something that’s happened within my family has (slowly) made me realise how privileged I am as a cis white hetero woman. I haven’t had to think too hard about what it means to have a “safe space”. Let alone what it means to actually provide one. (I need to note here, in fact it isn’t always easy to be “safe” as a woman, but that’s another topic).

But even I, in my “ivory tower” in Southern France have realised that the time has come to identify as an outspoken ally. What has helped me realise this?

Introducing Alex

My older child Alex is non-binary.

Alex 2025

The world is sometimes not an easy place for them to live in.

Last Summer, Alex took a step forward with surgery and the use of testosterone in hormone replacement therapy. (They’ve permitted me to share this information). Since this time (and before then) I’ve had to make changes in the way I talk about my youngsters. When asked, I say I have two children. Until recently this would be tagged with “one of each”. Now gender can stay irrelevant. Which, I now realise, it is but it’s a social norm to ask and/or tell! And people do ask. And that leads to a conversation about the meaning of the word “non-binary” or in French “non-binaire”.

LGBTQIA+ quandary

When talking about my children, I do my best to make the topic what absolute stars they are (of course!) It would be easy to simply refer to Alex in their previous gender. Why would I do that? To not have to explain yet again what “non-binary” means, and have the pleasure of simply describing what a strong, clever, beautiful person they are! Alex is unlikely to ever meet the person I’m talking to, what harm could it do? But, being true to Alex is being true to myself, so yes, I do use “iel” in French and of course “they /them” in English.

Explaining the pronouns!

One person at a time, to explain the use of they/them/iel/iels

My French isn’t bad, but I still need years more practice! However, I surprise myself with my ability to explain the use of the “iel” pronoun. But explaining “non-binaire” goes beyond the use of pronouns.  I find myself suggesting that even if we can’t empathise with the need to make such drastic changes to our bodies (lucky us) it’s not affecting us, so it’s for us to simply accept those who do feel the need.

And that applies to everyone in the LGBTQIA+ rainbow. Accept, support, be an ally.

For a guide to gender identity terms, take a look here

For the use of pronouns in French, Lawless French has it covered!

LGBTQIA+ Weddings and funerals

My “acceptance” has never been a question. I’ve conducted weddings for all-girl couples. In fact, I got on so well with one couple that they invited me to stay on for the after-wedding barn-dance! I sat at a table of their gay friends (they all met through a dance retreat). One of the guys told me that, despite the fact he’d recently attended a great many weddings in London none was as touching, engaging and personal as mine! (If you scroll down you can find Lise and Harriet’s own comments in my testimonials!)

Lise and Harriet’s relaxed wedding day

I remember a funeral for a gay man in Llanelli which was a flamboyant affair with brightly coloured flowers and plentiful rainbow references.

What does it mean to “Support” the LGBTQIA+ Community?

The Transgender flag

So why haven’t I promoted that I’ll work with everyone, no matter where they are on the LGBTQIA+ spectrum until now? The main way of showing support would be to place flags or badges on my website/social media pages. This seems to be the accepted norm in my wedding community. But I felt queasy doing this since it felt like virtue signalling. Like saying I support a charity without ever actually doing anything for them. Somehow, I didn’t feel I’d earned the support of this community, so why should I have the right to fly their flag?

I now see that “support” IS speaking out. It’s showing visibly that not only am I happy to create ceremonies for everyone, I am also in a position to actively show my support of everyone.

The Progress flag

On a personal level, I will continue to explain to one person at a time why we need to accept. How we can change our language to do so.

On a bigger stage, I will not stand by whilst individuals and governments legislate against whole rafts of our society. I will call out the keyboard warriors who mean harm to our society.

I will fly your flags. I hope you’ll allow me to share them as your ally.

The traditional Gay Pride flag

Ps … The good people at “Cyberghost” have asked me to share a link to their blog giving practical advice “for LGBTQ+ folks who’ve had to delete photos, change numbers, or vanish for their own safety”. Yes, there are other VPNs out there, but this article gives some good advice!

The post Flying the Flags, Our LGBTQIA+ Policy of “Love is Love” appeared first on Treasured Ceremonies.

When Dr Mannix offered to come to Carmarthen, I panicked a bit wondering how a Funeral Celebrant in Carmarthenshire leads a talk about dying. I’ve written about funerals before, of course. Such as in Funeral for a Friend and The Perfect Resting Place

L-R Helen Williams, Dr Rebecca Croft, Rev. Euryl Howells, Dr Kathryn Mannix

This was the first of its kind within West Wales, featuring Dr Kathryn Mannix. She is best-selling author of the book “With The End in Mind”. I hosted the evening. Dr Rebecca Croft, Ty Cymorth’s Palliative Care consultant and Rev. Euryl Howells, Hospital Chaplain joined us on stage.

The evening addressed various issues around the subject of death and dying. Central to Dr Mannix’s presentation was, since the introduction of the NHS, few people see someone die.  Therefore few realise that there’s a gentle process at the end of life which most people follow. We are more influenced by screen interpretations of death than the “real thing”, and this can be misleading.

Use the “D” Word!

That which we don’t understand we fear, therefore we fear death more than ever before. Even to the extent that we don’t say the “D” word, and we don’t discuss our demise ahead of time. This can lead to us experiencing greater grief than perhaps we need to when someone close to us dies. I often witness bewilderment in the families whom I’m helping, as do many who were involved in last night’s discussion.

Let’s Talk about Death

Dr Mannix gave examples from her book of families whose experience of death could have been made easier. Children must give parents “permission” to discuss what should happen in extreme illness or even after death for their funeral. Following her presentation, the panel discussed the issues Dr Mannix presented. Then I took the mic around the audience for their input, which was lively and at times very touching.

Everyone seemed to agree that, instead of euphemisms such as “passed”, “lost” etc. we should adopt a robust use of the words, “death” dying” “died” and so on. This would help accept the reality of dying. This is true in all places from the media to schools to funeral directors. I noted that even our local media was squeamish about even discussing this event, despite having such an expert speaker.

168 tickets were sold. A real coup!

3 Wise Women!

After the event, Dr Mannix remarked that this was possibly the best she’d yet to attend. She noted audience was very caring of each other, applauding when an individual shared a personal or helpful anecdote. Rev Howells reflected afterwards; “we had been brought into the 21^stcentury in Bronwydd – myself there with 3 Wise Women!!”

So, as “Women”, or just “People” (wise or otherwise) let’s spread the word – the “D” word – and help everyone face that which is inevitable head on so that we live our life without the fear of dying.

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The saddest blog I ever want to write

Two days ago I attended a funeral as a mourner rather than celebrant. This was my own mother’s funeral and I still find it hard to believe that it’s happened. I’m writing this not knowing whether I shall make it public or not (and, if I do whether anyone would read it anyway), but I need to get the feelings and reflections out of my head before I can get on with my day – to – day work as a celebrant.

Happier times; Mum’s 90th birthday party in front of her house.

My Mum died on Saturday 7^th October aged 95. She had been in hospital for a month, not exactly ill but with shallow breathing and unable to return home as her balance had finally gone completely. She was booked in to a nursing home for the Tuesday after she died. Mum had managed to stay in the family home with the help of carers until this point, and she didn’t want to leave. The “family home” is a large Victorian house where she had lived for fifty years, so we shouldn’t have been surprised that she found a way to avoid seeing the door close on it for the final time.

Mum Went the Best Way Possible

On the morning of the day she died, Mum greeted one of my brothers and two visitors with her normal sunny smile but then slowly entered an ever deeper sleep. By night-fall she died, by then my older brother was also with her having driven up from London. There was no struggle, no pain, just sleep. I arrived some 30 minutes after she had gone. Do I regret not getting there in time? Yes, enormously but I’d seen her the previous week and on kissing her goodbye I think we both knew it may have been the last time.

My sister flew back from her home in Kenya and together the family (two brothers and two sisters, my Dad having died some thirty – eight years ago) started to think about a funeral. My family were brought up as Catholic, and I’ve spoken elsewhere about the need for ceremony that this has instilled in me. Mum was very much still practising, as are two of my siblings, so of course we would have a full requiem mass. My mother had identified the exact readings and hymns which she wanted, making life much easier for us. I recommend that everyone does this!

The Funeral

Two priests (the parish priest and an ex-parish priest whom Mum had requested) were available to say the mass and they did it beautifully. My sister took the lead on identifying what we wanted from Mum’s notes and arranged things accordingly. We were given special permission to sing “Jerusalem” before the start of the ceremony since Mum had been a very keen WI member during her time in Cheshire (50 years). There’s a tradition for this hymn to be sung before every WI meeting in England. My niece is a talented musician and, aged just sixteen, agreed to accompany the organist with her flute as we sung “Lord of all Hopefulness”. What a trooper, she did it beautifully. My nephews read the readings and my daughter and niece read the bidding prayers, which my brother had put together with his sons.

Normally in a requiem mass, the priest would preach a sermon, possibly with direct reference to the departed, but there will be no eulogy as such. As a celebrant, I find this very hard to understand but thankfully the parish priest gave us permission to present our own tribute to our mother and the four of us did so at the end of the ceremony, just before the final blessing. Mum really did pack a great life into her 95 years, so the main problem was deciding what to leave out. We took it in turns to read the words we’d decided on together. In rehearsing them my sister and I had thought we’d never manage without tears but on the day, we found strength from somewhere and all did Mum proud. I expect that seeing a sea of familiar faces looking up at us with real interest in what we had to say must have helped. During the mass, the priest who knew Mum best gave a lovely sermon in which he also referred to her life in the parish.

Mum as a Wren during the second world war. It was lovely that we, as a team, could give our tribute during the ceremony.

The Hymns…

Singing can be disastrous at funerals; not at this one! The congregation and family raised the roof, even the priest was moved to congratulate us all! At the end of the ceremony, Mum’s casket was given a final blessing with incense and the priest led the family out to the waiting hearse as we and the congregation sang “How Great Thou Art”. My family has been raised to sing with gusto and this is a beautiful hymn, so we kept singing “acapella” once we were outside and the thirteen of us made a surprisingly good noise as the coffin was lifted into the hearse. The congregation slowly followed us out and in time we went to the cemetery to take Mum to her final resting place with Dad. Once the priest had finished his graveside ceremony, we sang an impromptu repeat of the chorus “Then sing my soul, my saviour God to thee. How Great thou art, how great thou art….”. The priest, moved by the depth of love for this amazing lady then, with his arm around my shoulders, said the prayer “Hail Holy Queen” which had been a favourite of my Dad. Mum would have approved.

I haven’t attended mass for some years but I must admit that Catholicism in some form is still in me like print in a stick of rock. I found comfort in hearing the familiar words and responses, and knowing that we were doing just what Mum had requested was enormously significant. Having a Catholic funeral was how it had to be, and I wouldn’t have changed this for the world. I’m enormously grateful that the priest allowed us to put our own stamp on the proceedings, however. At the end of the day, many of us want to be allowed to make a funeral “our own”, and whilst this one was very different to the ceremonies I create, it was perfect.

Had I been asked to officiate a funeral for a family with this sort of story to tell, I’m afraid that at our meeting I may have been tempted to talk about “a good innings”, or a “long and fulfilled life”. If I ever have used those phrases, I don’t think I will again, or at least without the proviso, “but it doesn’t matter, she’s your Mum and you miss her”.  Rest in Peace, Mum. I love you.

The flowers were a mixture from the florist and Mum’s garden. The casket was from the Somerset Levels, an area which had significance for Mum.

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A funeral can be prepared with a day or two’s notice, or we can start months or years before the day arrives.

Take time to prepare if possible.

Last Winter my friend Felicity called me warning me that she’d be requiring my service as a funeral celebrant “soon”. Her husband Colin’s condition was deteriorating rapidly. He’d had Parkinson’s disease for well over a decade and had been in care for over a year. This was to be my second experience of conducting a funeral for a friend.

I met Colin and Felicity forty years ago when I was sixteen. At that stage they had two boys and another was soon to arrive. I was a typical teenage baby-sitter/helper but this relationship turned to friendship over the years. Strangely, we’ve all gravitated to Wales although Flip and Colin settled eventually in Anglesey whilst I’m in Carmarthenshire.

Colin’s hop – decorated wicker coffin

Home or cemetery burial?

We started discussing funerals during that Winter phone call. Felicity very sensibly realised that making some decisions before Colin died would give her space to grieve when the time came. She initially chose a home burial, but this was soon dismissed in favour of the local cemetery in Beaumaris which has a great view over the Menai Straights. We looked at venues, including local hotels and village halls but Felicity opted to hold both ceremony and “After Party” at home. Felicity also chose her funeral director, Mr Rowlands early in the organisational process, knowing that she would get on well with him after talking on the phone and meeting with him.

The day came…

Colin finally died at the end of May and the funeral was set for Monday 5^th June. A large gazebo was bought and a small marquee hired. Flip and I met and made decisions on what songs to sing and play. She came with her own ideas of the very rude rugby songs which Colin had taken great pride in knowing. I’d have found these if she’d insisted but we delved a little deeper and went with songs which reflected Felicity’s love for him, his African childhood, his rugby playing and (England team!) supporting and his love of Wales.

As a celebrant, if other people are giving eulogies, I normally simply introduce them. However, despite there being four people speaking as well as the boys and Felicity, I was generously invited to give my own personal memories of Colin in my introduction to proceedings. The tributes were interspersed with poems which Flip and I felt reflected Colin well. As usual, I wrote the entire ceremony and sent it to Flip for approval. His brother had expected a catholic funeral but left the final decision to Felicity. Thankfully, he also approved the script I sent out.

Rain tried to stop play!

As the day got nearer, the Sun shone but in time honoured fashion the day broke with drizzle which developed into driving rain. The ceremony was moved into the house (a large room known as the “music room”) but there was no way of fitting everybody in. Some loyal souls therefore sat under the gazebo or marquee without being able to hear a thing, as far as I knew!

The music room ready for the funeral

Inside the house, the stage was set beautifully. There were cards and pictures on the walls for people to look at afterwards. Candles were lit – and then put out once we realised how many people were going to be squashed in to a very small space! Mr Rowlands brought the coffin, and Colin made his last journey into his house carried by friends and family. Colin worked all his life in the distilling industry, so Felicity and the family had decorated his wicker casket with hops and lavender. It looked magnificent on the large dining table which filled the end of the room.

Not a spare space in the house on the day of the funeral

Finding the right notes

The ceremony went almost without a hitch; because we’d tried so hard to fit everyone in, we started a little late and forgot the opening music of “Thank you for the days”. We played it at the very end instead, Felicity reckoned this being better in any case! The other choices of music were “Hakuna Matata”, then “The Lion Sleeps Tonight”, obviously both being reminiscent of Africa. We all sang along with the CDs, the words being in the order of ceremony. By the time the third piece of music was played, everyone had found their voices and joined Max Boyce with gusto as we sang “Hymns and Arias”. I’ve a feeling that many of the English mourners were unfamiliar with the words and found it very funny! Balance was restored with the final song, “Swing Low Sweet Chariot”; Colin was English, after all.

Felicity, referring to one of her boys. reaches out to him.

The Interment in the Rain

The family, a few close friends and I went to the cemetery for the interment. The rain lashed down, but we did Colin proud as we said our words of farewell together.

Graveside, sometimes rain feels appropriate.

In the meantime, back at the house, a jazz band had started playing in the marquee and the hog roast was ready. The party had started, just as Colin would have wanted. On our return, we couldn’t blame anyone who shook Felicity’s hand thanking her for her hospitality but confessing they needed to get home and get dry. I recognised some faces from the days when I’d be invited to dinner parties (to make up numbers!) and was flattered by a great many positive comments about the ceremony.

A Job Well Done

The day seemed to have flown by when Felicity and I found ourselves back in the music room with the “cousins” (twenty-something niece and nephews) and the boys, and all the guests had gone. We reflected on the day over very large gin and tonics (well, Colin would have approved!) and were satisfied that we’d said goodbye in the most fitting way we could.

Call me to help prepare your loved one’s – or your own – funeral.

A day or two later, one of Felicity’s friends emailed her. The message was that she “had already decided she was having her funeral at Matthews Orchard with a party in his barn and her ashes under the Oak tree or the horse chestnut. Now they know exactly how to do it. Another booking for Helen!”

As for Felicity, she later wrote a review saying “A wonderful wonderful celebration of my husbands life. Helen was truly amazing. Talented, efficient, loving, friendly, and so supportive. It made the day so special. I have had letters after letters raving about the day. I cannot recommend her highly enough.”

As for me, I truly understood what it was to “celebrate a life” for this was a life that I’d known, and knew that it had been lived well. My privilege was in sharing that certainty that all that was left to do was to recall, sing and be thankful.

The post Funeral for a Friend appeared first on Treasured Ceremonies.

Being a Celebrant

“Two months and three funerals on from my first diary entry, I may not have much more insight into what gives me the right to be a celebrant, but I do have insight regarding what it means to be one.`

I have performed funeral ceremonies for a man and a woman around their 80’s and a woman who died aged 49.

The Romantic Life Remembered

The first, for the man aged 79, was after a 6 year illness, and happened to be the husband of one of my neighbours, although I barely knew them. The wife was prepared for this event, and had been blessed to have had 26 years of very happy marriage with her husband. She obviously adored him, as did many others and the service had a theme of “our hero”. There had been issues surrounding offspring from the deceased’s previous marriage so my instruction was to focus on the last 26 years. This led to a wonderful reflection on the love and romance experienced by the couple during this happy time of their lives. I led the mourners into the building to the strains of The Animals playing “The House of the Rising Sun”, how dramatic! It was clear that this was to be a celebration of a life well lived, and I couldn’t have asked for a nicer person to have as a client for my first contract. There was laughter through the tears, and smiles through the hugs I received outside the crematorium. The second mourner, a niece, had previously worked in a crematorium in England and gave me a reassuringly big hug, telling me I’d done a “great job”

The Brave Celebration of a Mother’s Life

The next funeral followed only a week or so later, and was a very different affair. The family truly wanted a celebration of the life of their mother and wife who had been taken far too soon, aged 49. Her adult life had been dedicated to her children; the younger child, her daughter, being 19 years old. This is only a year older than my girl, and I admit I struggled to keep my emotions in check when I visited the family, and even more so in the crematorium. The music had been chosen by the deceased before she died, and whilst the family wanted a celebratory tone, the music, as the daughter ruefully explained, would create a “sob – fest”!

And so it proved. We entered to “You’re going to make me lonesome when you go”. Two women came to the front to express their love for their friend in short passages and I read a heart breaking paragraph written by the daughter. Dolly Parton sang “I will always love you”, and my voice wobbled all the way through, I think, but I forced myself to maintain eye contact even when most of the eyes were overflowing with tears. The final tune was a quirky number from Oh Brother Where Art Thou, chosen by the husband. He said they played it in the car and regularly watched the film. I saw his face crumple when the music started, and wondered whether he’ll ever be able to listen to it again.

A Funeral Bringing the Family Together

Today was the funeral of a lady who was 82 years old and had been suffering from cancer. There was an obvious rift among the siblings, and I had the job of creating a ceremony that would be approved at some level by all. One daughter explained that her mother had requested a small, private funeral, the other two siblings would have preferred something bigger, as their parents had been very well known in their equine profession. I was warned that we would come across this sort of scenario; it seems that funerals force families to communicate when in the normal course of life they will exist month to month (year to year?) with no communication at all.

The lady organising the funeral was concerned that her siblings did not express their emotions; neither, indeed had her mother. “She only told me she loved me 2 weeks before she died”….my unspoken reply to this was “well, she was middle class and English”, but I kept that to myself. I thought I could understand the rest of the family’s impatience with having displays of emotion forced on them. I am aware, of course that I will never understand what is behind family interactions in my work.

The ceremony eventually was written, compromises reached. It turned out to be very moving. At first, I thought I could feel an uncomfortable atmosphere, but as the tribute progressed, everyone relaxed and I could see nods and smiles of recognition as the lady was remembered. A feature of this funeral was that each person would lay a flower, with a message attached, on the casket. It was really, very touching, and I again had to check myself to hold back my own emotions. The poetry chosen all had a reconciliatory tone, and my heart went out to them all, I hope it worked. The music was gentle, classical and calming, as chosen by the daughter organising the event. Until the last tune, that is, which was the theme from the Horse of The Year Show. After what I interpreted as a shocked look on many faces, the desired effect was reached, and the smiles started. I can only hope that the siblings will find ways to smile together again in the future, now that their parents are no longer with them.”

The post My First Few Funeral Ceremonies, Looking Back appeared first on Treasured Ceremonies.

Living as I do in rural Wales, the question “Can I have a funeral on my own land?” is not unreasonable. However, many don’t realise that the simple answer is “yes you can”. What’s more, it’s a beautiful way for the family and friends of the person who has died to say farewell with the least possible grief. Below is a blog I wrote back in 2017, I’ve done more “home burials” since then, but this one will never leave me. It was beautiful.

The Plan

Yesterday, Friday 10th July I officiated at the funeral of a lady in a little village between Newcastle Emlyn and Aberporth. I met Ron, her husband, and her daughter and son a few days before the ceremony (as normal) and created the ceremony (as normal). But that’s where the normality finished.

Eileen and her husband had been making plans about how they would conduct their funerals for years, and after a fight with cancer her time had come.

The Funeral

Eileen was buried in the field above her house. This field hasn’t been ploughed for decades and as such the long grass waved in the wind, dotted with wild flowers and butterflies. First, we took Eileen’s coffin into the house (of which she’d been justifiably proud) one last time. Then I and a small group of friends and family followed the hearse up the wide path which had been cut through the meadow. The atmosphere was relaxed as we walked and the Sun shone down.

The bearers – Eileen’s family – put her onto the funeral director’s bier when we reached the graveside. We all formed a circle around it and reflected on her life by listening to the tribute I’d created for -and with – the family. Two of the (adult) children had written letters, so these were read out. Then we took her to the grave to read the letter she’d written  “to be read graveside”. After I’d read a short reflective piece about the beauty and suitability of where her final resting place is, Eileen’s family lowered her into the earth. This was to the sound of Elvis, as she had instructed. Everyone laid individual flower stems on the casket after that, and the tears flowed freely. Even the funeral director admitting to wiping away a tear.

The Aftermath

This marked a first for both the funeral director and me and it was the most natural way to say goodbye to a loved one I’ve come across. Obviously, we don’t all have access to our own large piece of land, but it’s made me wish that we had a natural burial site nearer where I live. Even though this wouldn’t be quite as perfect as being laid to rest a few yards from our home like Eileen is, the feeling of the circle of life being completed would be more palpable I suspect, than in the crematorium. Debbie, Eileen’s daughter said afterwards; “I don’t feel sad right now, I have a warm feeling here (touching her chest) as I know we’ve done the right thing for Mam when the inevitable happened”.

To have a home burial, you do need to comply with one or two issues, but it really isn’t complicated. This is a good article on the subject from a reliable source.

Updates 3.11.2020

There is now a natural burial site in Keeston, near Haverfordwest. It’s called Pembrokeshire Natural Burials. Please contact me if you would like to hold your ceremony there.

I know of no reason why you shouldn’t have a natural burial in these times of Covid19. In fact, if it’s what you want I think there’s even more reason to do so. It would be a small, intimate gathering in a place which is important to you and the one you have lost. This is my general article about funerals in the pandemic.

If you want to learn more about the service you will receive with Treasured Ceremonies, call me on 07986 526732 or email info@treasuredceremonies.co.uk  or ask your funeral director to contact me.

The funeral director in this case was Alun Esau. His address is

Soar
Sarnau,
Llandysul
Dyfed,
SA44 6QS
Telephone: 01239 654 240

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