Funerals can be beautiful (and even funny)

When someone you love dies, the very last thing you want to do is sit through a generic service that could have been about anyone. You want their service. The one with their music, their stories, the photo where they're pulling the face that only they pulled. The one that feels like them walked into the room one last time.

That's what a celebrant-led funeral does. We sit down together - usually in your kitchen, usually with strong tea and tissues - and you tell me about them. Not the polished obituary version. The real version. The way they made toast. The phrase they said every Christmas. The argument they always lost. The thing they were quietly brilliant at that almost nobody knew. Then I take all of it away and write a service that sounds like the person you've lost, not a stranger reading off a card.

And yes, funerals can be funny. They should be funny, when the person was funny. Some of the most healing moments I've witnessed have been a room full of mourners absolutely howling with laughter at a story about the deceased reversing a caravan into a duck pond, then crying two minutes later when their grandchild reads a poem. Both things at once. That's grief done properly.

There is no script you have to follow. No religion you have to nod along to if it wasn't theirs. No hymns if they hated hymns. No order of service set in stone. We can have AC/DC on the way out if that's what they would have wanted. We can release doves, or scatter petals, or have everyone wear something orange because orange was their colour. Your traditions, your timings, your call.

Practically: I'll meet you within a day or two of you getting in touch, write a draft of the service for your approval, and lead the ceremony itself with the calm and care it deserves. You won't have to think about timings or transitions on the day - that's my job - so you can be fully present with your family.

It is one of the most important things I do, and I don't take a single one lightly. If you're reading this because you've just lost someone, I'm so sorry. Whenever you're ready, I'm here.