Our last family gathering was so memorable because it was the kind of spring day you dream of. There wasn’t a cloud in the striking blue sky and plump yellow daffodils were dancing in the breeze.
We had chosen a pub with a large garden, and the laughter flowed as freely as the drinks. My sons, aged 6 and 2, ran from table to table, laughing uproariously as their cousins and uncles chased them across the grass. My mother-in-law and husband caught up with relatives and family friends they hadn’t seen in a long time, with a soundtrack of classic 1960s and 70s rock humming in the background.
On that gorgeous spring afternoon, my father-in-law was everywhere – in the music that he loved so much that he recreated it in the bands he formed with friends, in the photo collages dating back to the 1950s, in the friends that had traveled from across the world to pay tribute to him and in the stories about his knack for a joke and ability to bring people together. Sure, there had been plenty of tears at the chapel service that morning, but the mood at the pub quickly shifted to one of gratitude and nostalgic joy. “Thank you for the days”, as the lyrics to one of his favorite songs by British rock band The Kinks went.
My mother-in-law, who had barely sat down all afternoon as she went from guest to guest, commented that it was just like the parties she used to go to with my father-in-law, spending the whole time chatting separately with friends, only to reunite at the end of the evening. Except this time, the party was in honor of my father-in-law, who passed away in February, just a few months shy of his 73rd birthday. Unexpectedly, it also prompted my husband and I, who are in our 40s and with no reason otherwise to be thinking about death, to have an in-depth conversation about how we would like our funerals to pan out.
We had conflicting views – but now we’re on the same page
As my husband and I took in the sunshine as we drove to the pub after the burial ceremony, we realized we had never asked each other about our funeral preferences, firstly, whether we wanted to be buried or cremated. My husband and I love to travel, plus we love the beach and have spent some of our happiest times covered in saltwater and sand. So naturally, I had thought that being cremated and having each of our ashes scattered at a beach of our choice, would be a poignant way of saying goodbye. It would be at odds with my own family’s Italian Catholic preference of being entombed in a tiled cement grave above the ground. But it would be our choice and reflect our individual stories.
Boy, was I wrong. “There’s no way I’d be cremated,” my husband told me. “I hate the thought of my body being burnt, and to be reduced to nothing but a pile of ashes.” In seconds, my romantic notions of a sunset ocean ash scattering ceremony disappeared. But I was surprised by my lack of disappointment, as there is also something romantic about being buried together, as we agreed would be our preference. Indeed, my father-in-law joined his parents in the same plot, and that is where my mother-in-law will eventually be buried, too.
While we were on the topic, it made sense to discuss what we wanted the day to look like. No black dress code, we agreed, and we wanted to emulate the garden party atmosphere of my father-in-law’s wake, with personalized music and an open bar for all guests. There had also been a buffet of chicken wings and nachos, which we thought was so much more fun than a sad plate of cold, stale sandwiches.
We want to move away from tradition
My father-in-law’s memorial service, while held in a chapel, was a non-religious ceremony, presided over by a civil celebrant. Humorous poems and speeches were read, but there was also the formality of the coffin arriving in a big, black, shiny hearse, followed by immediate family members in a black limousine. The funeral director was dressed in a black formal suit complete with tails and top hat, and he carried a large wooden cane. The attendants were also similarly dressed.
While it suited this occasion, we agreed this British tradition was not for us, and that we would look for an alternate venue for a more casual service. This would be in keeping with how we have approached our other life milestones so far. After all, my husband and I were married in a civil ceremony on the beach in Australia, and held our wedding reception at the pub next to it. My gown was coral colored rather than white. We don’t need to follow tradition.
As the conversation with my husband gave us some clarity about what we do and don’t want when the time comes, we thought it would be a good idea to formally write it all down, so that is something we are now doing.
I’ll admit, I was never aware of how much funerals cost, and after seeing the four-figure bill for my father-in-law’s service, we have decided to reserve some of our savings to cover this cost for us, too. A more casual affair will, hopefully, cost less, but we still want our family and friends to have a good time and feel uplifted — so the free bar we want them to enjoy is non-negotiable.
While the reason my husband and I have had the conversation about our funerals is a regrettable one, I’m so glad we have been open with each other about our thoughts and preferences. It’s much better than spending the next three or four decades with completely different ideas about our funeral plans and being disappointed that we’re not on the same page.
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