Hello and welcome to Life Lessons from Death, a newsletter for people and organisations curious to know what death can teach us about living and working well.
In our professional and personal lives, change is a constant and endings are a part of life. We can fight this – and lots of us try to - or we can learn to ride it. If we can ride it, we will find that every ending holds the seeds of something new, the chance to learn and grow.
As Founder of London funeral directors Poppy's, I’ve had more than a decade of insights from death, and it has transformed me. Now I want to invite you behind the scenes so you can learn too.
This week, I'm reflecting on the different ways we remember people when they die, I'm celebrating those doing great work for LGBTQ+ people facing the end of their lives, and I'm exploring the tangential ways we talk about death.
I post updates fortnightly so please do subscribe and share widely.
Different ways to remember
Recently I took my kids back to the Isle of Wight where I grew up and whilst there, to Sally's Riding School. If you time the tides right, you can have a very beautiful time riding horses along the beach. I don't know when Sally started the riding school - definitely 35+ years ago - and seeing her lead the horses up and down the beach is a key memory from my childhood.
Last autumn, Sally died. I heard her funeral was chock-full of people who'd ridden with Sally: kids who loved horses who'd grown into adults with big memories of this woman. I was a bit thoughtful about going back. How would it feel without Sally?
When we arrived, we found Sally’s dad manning the kiosk. He's an impressive, dapper, elderly gent who takes payment and gets the health and safety disclaimer signed, all the time with a huge, warm smile on his face. He sent us off to get the hats and boots.
Once the kids were up on the horses, I walked alongside them, chatting to Sally's team and asking questions about their work. Almost every answer included Sally. 'Sally used to say...' 'I remember when Sally bought that horse...' 'I'm not sure what Sally would say about that...'
I was struck by how present Sally felt. It was so very lovely.
On our way out, Sally's dad took the time to chat to my kids, filling out their names and the names of the horses they rode on some rosettes he gave to them as mementoes.
Since then I've been thinking about the different ways we remember, include and relate to the people in our lives who have died. How powerful and helpful it can be to have the chance to talk about them. Some of us remember by looking at photos or precious objects. Some of us do it through cooking a special meal, writing or telling stories. Sally's dad and Sally's colleagues do it by coming to work.
How do you remember the people in your life who have died? Do you have practices you return to? I'd love to hear about your experiences.
Celebrating Pride
There are some amazing people and organisations doing important work around end of life experiences for LGBTQ+ people who I want to celebrate and support here.
🌈 Ashley James Hayhurst's Queer Funeral Guide AKA Making informed choices when planning a funeral. Ash also leads GIRES’ Being Ready Project which works to improve palliative, end-of-life, funeral and bereavement care for trans and gender diverse people in England and Wales. You can follow Ash on Instagram here.
🌈 With Ash’s support, Hospice UK published the Trans and Gender Diverse Inclusion handbook to support hospices to be inclusive and accessible.
🌈 Recognising that due to fear discrimination, LGBTQ+ people often access end of life care services late, or not at all, Marie Curie UK produced these excellent resources including advice on language and communication, providing care and involving partners. Check them out.
🌈 Brighton’s longest running LGBTQ+ charity, Switchboard - National LGBTQ+ Support Line runs The Grief Project, a peer support group for LGBTQ+ people who have experienced a bereavement including monthly informal Grief Meets. Read this interview to find out more.
At Poppy's we believe that everyone should be able to access funeral care that respects their gender identity, sexual orientation and the relationships which are meaningful to them. We have received training from the Being Ready project in supporting trans and gender diverse clients, and we offer gender-affirming care.
If I've missed something important, or if you know of end of life, funeral or bereavement care resources specific to LGBTQ+ people, I'd be so glad if you shared them here. Thank you.
Informal chats about death
This week I watched an old episode of Mortimer & Whitehouse: Gone Fishing - that lovely, reflective, funny and sweet programme on the BBC where Bob Mortimer and Paul Whitehouse basically go fishing and talk about life.
Seven minutes in to episode one (series seven: Rocklands Mere, Norfolk - Tench) and the subject of death comes up. Bob is eating a hot dog and reflects that not only would he want a hot dog for his final meal, he'd also like one buried with him in his coffin. Much chuckling from both Bob and Paul. Then, as an aside, Bob says something really important. He describes visiting his mum after she died. How 'they' (the funeral director) put light blue eyeliner on her. How weird it was. How unlike her. 'My mum would have hated that. So it made me a bit sad.' Paul stays pretty quiet. And then they're back on to having a laugh. Paul asks Bob what he'd want for his make up when he dies. Bob says he wants full face paint, to be painted as a tiger, and to be wearing cowboy boots. They laugh. The scene changes. If you want to, check out the episode here.
I'm thoughtful about this. We think that talking about death is taboo, but actually it's not. We do it quite a lot and often use humour to help us. There's nothing wrong with that - humour is a natural tool to assist us when we're tackling big or overwhelming topics. But it would be a shame to miss what often sits within the humour. A wish or a hope or a regret or a memory that wants to be heard.
Do you often have conversations about death with friends, family or colleagues? Do you use humour to make those conversations easier? How does it go? I'd love to know.
Okay friends, until next time.
About the Author
I founded Poppy's to make outstanding care the norm when someone dies. Running a young company through the 2010s, I experienced pretty much constant organisational chop and change. Along the way I had three kids, now aged 10, 8 and 6. In 2021 I went through a leadership succession, recruited a CEO and changed my role to Founder & Chair. Change, endings and fresh starts are my buddies and friends.
Poppy's is a funeral directors, based in London, with a fresh approach to funerals. Instead of following rigid traditions, we listen to what you want and need. Instead of hiding behind closed doors, we’re open about how we care for the living and the dead. At Poppy's, we’re by your side every step of the way.