Death, funerals and me

18/01/2026

2016
The older I get, the more I don't like trends. I feel myself actively pushing back against them...and trying to help my children understand that a life spent pursuing every latest trend will be a life spent endlessly chasing; that their worth is not defined by keeping up with every latest fad.

Sometimes I wonder, if I live long enough, what kind of 'old lady' I might be...sometimes I aspire to be the cantankerous, rebellious sort - the sort of lady I love to write tributes for now. Other times I think I could be the kind, gentle, wise sort of soul, where you can feel the love radiate from the people who've known them. It could go either way I feel!! But I wouldn't want to end up the bitter kind...that wouldn't be fun...you can be cantankerous without being bitter, must be careful of that!

I just don't like our modern trend culture..yes, I know, there's always been trends, we were all young once wearing/ doing/ saying stupid stuff that makes us cringe. But our modern world magnifies it and social media speeds it up. Blink and the next minute people are saying two numbers for reasons that most of them can't explain...it kills me.

It took me months to process that wide leg jeans were back, and even longer to embrace them (and only because I stumbled across the most beautiful, stretchy, no buttons, pull on jeans ever (Tocada - look them up, thank me later). And now my skinny jeans sit unloved at the bottom of the pile...awaiting their possible, maybe, eventual (?) return to fashion. Can we just make a decision about that now btw and be done with it?!

Anyway, I'm going to indulge in the 2016 trend momentarily, only because 2016 was quite a pivotal year and I possibly wouldn't have thought about it otherwise...because HOW HAS IT BEEN A DECADE?!

January 2016. I returned to work as a teacher, after my second maternity leave.
Due to Ed's work, we needed to move to South Yorkshire. By the early spring, the house was on the market and the intended move gave me a reason to look for a job in another school, in that area.

March 2016, I secured a job on the border of Wakefield / Barnsley to start in September...unexpectedly early in the year.

By the summer, everything changed. The boundaries of Ed's work changed and we no longer needed to move. We took the house off the market, but now I had a job a long way from home...a job I already had an uneasy gut feeling about.

August 2016 and my auntie was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent surgery.

September 2016 I started the job and knew it wasn't right. I wasn't right, I needed to leave teaching and I needed to leave now. I was a shell of myself.

Late September 2016 I went to my haematology consultation. I had been in remission since 2011 but was still being seen for follow up. I broke down at that appointment - a combination of everything - my Auntie's diagnosis, my work life taking over my life and perhaps not fully dealing with what had happened to me and my illness...I had got the job in Bradford whilst I was still finishing my treatment, which looking back, was insanity...I did that because I felt I had to, but maybe I shouldn't have done it.

The consultant referred me to their oncology counsellor. I left the appointment, went straight back to my auntie and uncle's house, rang school, told them I wouldn't be returning that day. I never returned to teaching after that day. The next time I went to the school, I handed in my notice, and the time after that, I went to collect my belongings.

In 2016, I didn't think I was that brave, but in that moment, the rusty nail in my backside hurt me enough that I did it. My uncle always told me that when it hurts hard enough, that's when you'll make the change.

I did another 'unlike me' thing in that time. I walked right in to the opportunity that got me out of teaching, and I set up a pre-school gymnastics business alongside the wonderful Jayne Bellwood. Financially, it felt like a huge risk to walk away from teaching but when it really came down to it, it had to be done, because I couldn't do it any more.

So 2016 was a year of massive and, at the time, uncharacteristic change. I think 2026 me is quite a bit braver. And a decade later, another career change later, my life is so different. I'm almost certainly busier than ever, but it's different now.

I'm not posting photos of 2016 because I don't know where they are and I CBA. It's likely there's hardly any photos of me because I was in the baby / toddler trenches, covered in milk and sick, we didn't go anywhere except baby groups, there were no nights out or theatre trips. Two maternity leaves in two years - money was tight and it was going to get even harder for a while.

So, yeah. I've dipped my toe in the trend but not properly, I don't want to look at how much I've aged or remind myself how fast my children have grown at the moment, because January is hard and I've had enough wobbles this month already!

This is about reminding myself how far I've come. A decade is both long and short. And sometimes we find that in our perceived weakest moments is when we are our bravest.

01/01/2026

TIME. OUR MOST VALUABLE CURRENCY.

****EDIT**** my maths wasn't mathing. It's 33% more, 450 more hours 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ that's why I'm tired 🙃

**Sorry it's a long one...read it all if you choose, or don't, it's fine, you decide if it's worth your time...😄 this first bit ended up as a vaguely poetic ramble...followed by some thoughts...!

It’s the time of year for waving goodbye to the old and ushering in the new. Of statements, declarations, promises, wishes and ideals, and maybe even a little bit of show, I said what I said, only you really know. We’re all guilty here.

Resolutions of doing more or doing less. We’re told this could be the year of getting fit, getting strong, getting slim, getting tweaked, plucked, tucked, and supplemented. Looking younger whilst getting older. We have to do both. Live well, but don’t show it, don’t wear it on your skin. Don’t you dare look old and lived in.

Having more to show, whilst pretending to go slow. Working to live, trying to live like we don’t work. More is less and less is more. There’s so much noise, so much being pushed our way do we even know what’s what anymore? What’s AI and what’s real? What works and what doesn’t? What really matters and who even cares? Will any of this really matter in the end?

We’ve got all the stuff, we’ve got all the tech, the machines, the hacks and the labour-saving devices. So why does it feel like life’s never been harder? Overwhelmed, over-worked, anxious, stressed, spoiled beyond comprehension…are we really travelling in the right direction?

Time we all spend, and no one can earn it. Spend it your own way, with those who make life feel worth it.
😘😘😘

I don’t know where that came from…I wanted to write a New Year post because it’s the done thing isn’t it?! And it just came out…. I promise I don’t hate life! Not at all, it's just a bit wild isn't it. This year, my resolution is to keep focused - to try and focus on what I need to do when I need to do it, to look for glimmers, focus on the good, focus on the ones who matter. I like my life, I’ll just never paint perfect pictures.

This year, I’ve done a small handful less than 200 funeral services. An ever so slightly quieter November meant I didn’t hit that arbitrary figure. I’m more than ok with it. It wasn’t a target that I set out with at the beginning of the year. I’m very very lame with those things. I’ve only ever set out to try and make this ‘work’ and I’m just very grateful to have created something that has, so far, grown year on year, so that was really my only quiet ambition this year, compared to last.

Whilst ever I’m supporting our family and feel that I’m doing a good job, then I’m satisfied. A round 200 would have meant I did exactly 33% more funeral services than last year, so it’s a tiny smidge under that.

Again, this time last year, I certainly didn’t make any sort of plan or prediction for a percentage increase, I just carried on trying to do my best.

When I realised how things were panning out over the course of year, I start to feel proud of what I’ve done – and I’m comparing to nothing but myself here, because that’s all that matters to me.

But truthfully, I also felt a strong sense of ‘justification’. I don’t know if that’s the right word or not. Maybe ‘validation’ I don’t know, but what I mean is, I looked at those numbers – and I saw how much more work I’ve done this year, because I know what that extra 30 ish% means in terms of the hours of work that go into it. And I thought about how hard this year has felt at times, how tired I’ve been some days, how crazy things have felt – not all the time, but sometimes. I thought about how it’s felt like spinning plates, juggling, even trying to keep my head above water at times – all the cliches, and then how I’ve felt guilty about that or wondered if that means I’m not able to cope with it all.

It’s not just my work life of course, it’s because all that sits alongside family life too – which has also got a lot lot busier this year, and certainly since September. The number of hours my children are putting into their hobbies has gone up by *I actually daren’t add it up!*

Being a celebrant means working hours are a bit unquantifiable in my experience. If someone asked me how many hours I work each week, I wouldn’t know. That’s because I don’t keep a record and it varies. But if each funeral I do takes an average of 10 hours, and I know that’s a fair approximation for me, then that’s a lot of extra hours I’ve fitted in this year. Around 450 extra hours. Add those 450 to the extra hours driving children around, and it’s a lot. It’s my choice, no one made me do it. But it’s a lot.

And looking at it in those terms is why I feel justified in feeling tired and run-ragged at certain points, but also proud, for doing it. I’m not promoting or glamorising over-working here, far from it, and there will be a limit as to how far my work can ‘grow’ because I’m one person doing this – I’m not building a team here, it’s just me.

But I’m proud of getting through it, getting it done, all of it – work and family stuff and being able to look back on it, because the two things I’ve talked about here are the biggest parts of my life at the moment – I love my work and I’m proud of what I do, it feels meaningful, and it’s why I go the extra mile sometimes even when it doesn’t seem sensible. And truthfully, next year I probably need to say no a bit more.

But I’m doing it for my children and my family. So my girls can do the activities they do, which I hope will add meaning and skills to their lives, whatever they choose to do in the future, and because the work allows us to do things that we enjoy as a family. This year we’ve spent a lot of time (and money!) going to see shows and events, and a couple of holidays too and for us, that’s been time (and money!) well spent.

A huge thank you goes to the ones who have helped and supported me and my family this year. And to the FDs I work with who trust me with the work. Here's the future, and the present 🥂

21/11/2025

Happy National Celebrants Day!

You didn't know that was a thing did you?! Neither did I until a few weeks ago when I saw something about it. You'd think I'd have an amazing marketing drop ready wouldn't you? Not if you know me!

But instead I have these musings. Today I've been out visiting two families...my first stop was Hall Bower....it's a long time since I've been there; in the village. I've been close, I've driven through, I've been to the 'Bum Royd' (ifykyk) but as soon as I got the address and the family started to explain where it was...I said it's fine, I know exactly where it is.

I've walked that little lane many times...up to the cricket club, down to the 'village', down the path behind... I've sat on that wall, fed the birds from it, I've looked at that view. I didn't live there, my dad and my uncle did, my grandma did, but it's one of the places that I 'grew up'. I spent a lot of time there in the foothills of the Castle Hill, and up it. It's still a spiritual home in that way. And I've posted about Castle Hill before and how it grounds me and always stirs up feelings.

The last time I was that close to the house was when some of my dad's and my grandma's ashes were scattered there, by the first style, and then my dad's up at Castle Hill.

I felt really emotional being there today. I looked at the 'flat stone' on the wall outside the house where we sat or fed the birds and looked up at Castle Hill and played in the field. What a stunning day. This cold does nothing for my ears but I was so grateful to be there on such a beautiful morning. I almost felt Christmasy...I said almost.

There's no real big message in all this. It's been a crazy few months, I think the emotions are a lot closer to the surface at the moment and it's one of those times where you have to accept that, and really lean into it. Sometimes all you need is a damn good cry, then you're good to go again.

As I've been writing this, I realised there is something I can share on this National Celebrants Day'. This is the podcast I recorded with my wonderful friend Liz, we recorded it in January of this year and I shared it, but I'm not sure if it was clear that the whole episode is available to listen to, it wasn't just a snippet! So if anyone has any interest to hear my pitter patter about my life as a celebrant, you can listen via the link below.

Thinking about how many services I've delivered since recording that episode is crazy! I've met so many amazing people this year, and been honoured to share the lives of so many people.

https://workitlikeamum.buzzsprout.com/2046830/episodes/17115081-grief-growth-and-finding-purpose-a-funeral-celebrant-s-story

09/11/2025

07/11/2025

7th November.
This day last year was a day I'll never forget; some of it's a blur and some of it will continue to blur over time, but some things will stay with me.

Most of all, I'll remember how it felt - the utter heart break of what happened; the colliding of my personal and professional life, standing there in front of everyone, knowing I had to get through that service.

It remains one of the hardest things I've ever done but something I'm proud to say I did.

A fellow celebrant posted this quote yesterday (FIRST PHOTO) and I felt it for so many reasons...I'm trying to hold on to the notion that if life ever gets simpler in the future, it might feel almost easy! There is a lot going on at the moment, I've said before and I'll say it again - I'm so grateful for my support network and the ones who show up.

Yesterday, I did a hard thing, professionally...a service for a baby is one of the biggest challenges we face as celebrants. What a thing to be trusted with.

I read that quote in the morning and reminded myself that I know I can get through, even when it's tough. I'll definitely have a moment, I'll have a wobble, I'll probably tell you about it, I'll feel it all, but I'll do it.

On Tuesday, I have another family funeral (October and I need a serious chat) and I've been asked to help, it will be different to last year, but I'll be trying to channel that same strength.

Today was collector's item - no services, no visits, script work to do, yes, but breakfast with a friend was just the tonic.
I can't believe it’s been a year, and it still hurts like hell.

20/10/2025

20 years.

It’s hard to wrap my head around that. And I don’t know what words I have today, but I had to recognise it. How much has happened in those 20 years…

October is such a strange month for me, it already was – I started this page two years ago talking about exactly that….but throw in what happened on 16th October last year, and therefore hitting a one year ‘anniversary’ and 20 year ‘anniversary’ in the space of few days is significant…I think I can extend myself that grace. On the one hand, nothing changes, but it still feels a lot to process.

And it’s my birthday tomorrow, so that’s why for 18 years, October felt like a weird mix of everything, then last year came along just to take the actual p**s. There I was last year on my birthday at Radcliffe’s Funeral Directors planning Anne’s funeral. Completely surreal…you couldn’t make it up really. So, this year, I’m taking the day off.

And such is the way of things, that my mum is right now preparing to make the move from our family home, having been there since 1986, so it all really feels like a strange sort of milestone. New chapters can be exciting and sad at the same time.

What I’ve experienced from being thrust into the realty of living with such a significant loss, at that stage in my life, is that it has shaped me, I can’t deny that, and I think it did define me for a while....but not forever, and now I know there’s so much life out there, and that you can find peace.

When so much time has passed, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt – it always will, but different feelings come along too – including an inescapable sense of distance…to the event, to the person, to the person you were. You think about everything they’ve missed and that they don’t know the ‘you’ that you are now.

I could say so much more, maybe it’s because there’s a lot of things going on right now or just the constant busyness that is my life, I don’t know.

Today, I’m so so grateful for the love and support I have.
I’ve been trying to decide whether to step back from this page. I’m undecided right now, but if I do, it does feel like a full circle moment - having started on this very topic, maybe I will end on it. Life is rarely neat and tidy, but sometimes these little patterns just show themselves.

16/10/2025

One whole year since you slipped away from us. And even longer since we had the real you with us.

It still doesn't feel real. That's the truth. Even though I do what I do, it still seems like an alternative reality. This will never feel fair. It will never not hurt.

There's so many clichés that get thrown around...life goes on, but it's never the same...it does and it has, but it isn't.

I believe so much in the power of language and that we should be careful with our words, especially when people are hurting. Sometimes clichés do ring true..but we have to be mindful, sometimes it can sound trite and we risk sounding insincere.

When I talk about some of these things in a funeral service, I hope I say them with sincerity and understanding, because I've lived it and I am living it.

There's no end point in grief, there's no other side to get to..we just slowly learn to adapt and to manage...people say it gets easier with time...maybe it does or maybe we just learn to carry it better.

It catches us off guard sometimes, a wave hits you and takes you down. But you have to roll with that. We shouldn't feel we have to hide our grief. You can't run or hide from it, if you try, it finds you, it has to be faced and felt. Yep. Been there, done that, tried that.. had to go through it, all of it.

Seemingly different emotions can all co-exist.... I think I'm better at being ok with all the different feelings living alongside each other these days. I think I'm more comfortable with being honest, even if that makes people uncomfortable.

But we do have to survive and manage in the world, and in my world I'm faced with it all the time, and I have to be strong for others. Sometimes that's hard but mostly, I try to find to find the strength and the solidarity in it.

What can I say about my Auntie Anne that hasn't been said...not enough...never enough. A family I worked with earlier this year brought these words to me. They're by Lemm Sissay - see first slide.

I'll miss you every day for the rest of my life 💔

11/10/2025

LIKE WHEN WE WERE YOUNG

In a service for a young man yesterday afternoon, we didn't shy away from the truth of what had happened, but we didn't need to linger there. So we addressed it, respectfully and delicately, and then we allowed ourselves to drift back, to happier times, to carefree childhood days, growing up in a different era, when the world felt simpler, smaller; when siblings and friends up and down the street were your 'followers' and adventure was the only 'trend'. The only 'check in' was the first glow of the street lights as they signalled time for home.

Here's a snippet:
'J' and 'K' had the kind of outdoor childhood that the 1980s provided, and they got up to all sorts; they had adventures in the woods, making dens and swings, they played out on the streets, British Bull dogs charge, exploring abandoned buildings, they rode bikes and played with remote control cars, and they went home when the street lights came on. These were happy times, and 'J' was a young lad, full of life....

We talked about some of the other things he's done and enjoyed during his life, and shared tributes from his nephew and a friend. We focused on who he was before and underneath his struggles. His love of music was referenced several times and the four pieces of music were carefully chosen, three Drum & Bass pieces and Celine Dion's Immortality.

His big sister read some words that she had written to close our ceremony, giving it a full circle feel, through her poem we finished up back in the sepia shades of nostalgia. '80s Kids' she called it. (See the slides below, words and photos shared with permission**)

At least two other services I've done lately have referenced similar things, days of fun and mischief, days spent playing outside, but they're recognisable to me, because sadly, they weren't people at the end of a long life who had died, these weren't childhoods spent pre or post WW2 or in the 50s or 60s (and I love hearing about those too) but these were late 70s and 80s childhoods, and that hits different.

I shared this quote in a post a while ago
"We're all homesick for a place that no longer exists".

Lately I've felt that more than ever...in a 'stop the world, I want to get off and go back' kinda way.

Imagine if you could go back...would you go back? Just to soak it up one last time...Would you even come back or just stay there....Peter Pan like...

I know the world wasn't perfect then, it never was, it never will be...our lives weren't perfect either, and yet somehow, those mental snap shots feel nothing but wonderful. I know some people had childhoods that were far from happy, I don't mean to minimise that.

But for those who do look back with awe and longing, I think childhood of those bygone eras, whichever yours was, will always glow rose gold... Remembered in pockets and warm feelings, of freedom and adventure, of time that seemed to stretch endlessly and a community that was just ours, not worldwide, of doing all sorts and nothing at all for hours, days and more.

Technology felt new and exciting back then...on the cusp of things to come that would make life better, easier, more fun. Now, I'm not so sure...

So for now, I make no apologies for wistful thoughts of those times. I listen with joyful understanding when people recount them, because for a moment, it takes us all back there.

23/09/2025

Today was a mad day, in what is a bit of mad time; from finding out I've been going round with tears in my knee cartilage for 11 years, to an unexpected hospital dash (not for me but I'm so glad I was able to help) two funerals, taking on a number of services, and trying to cling on to my slowly fading voice...all in a days work...!

I've done this before on my page - a little compare / constrast - both services today were at the same place, one was a very large attendance and one was a more intimate gathering. (Fortunately for my voice, the larger service was the first one, which needed more volume and projection - grateful for small mercies.)

The first service had a long tribute written by me with lots of input from the family and it included a short tribute read by his son. All the other parts of the service were kept to a minimum in order to allow time for the many many stories and memories.

The second service had a personal tribute written entirely by the family, whilst I created the other parts of the service to compliment the tribute, with two poems chosen by them.

Tributes can take many forms, sometimes lots of stories and anecdotes isn't what they choose. Theirs was a beautiful account of the lady's life, painting a picture of the loyal, loving and caring person she was. An honest life well lived.

The first service had lots of sobs and tears, especially from his young grandchildren, but the atmosphere was lifted by lots and lots of laughs too. Another honest life well lived.

The second service was a more steady tone, not down, filled with gratitude, but just more steady. Her husband of many years was breaking his heart and struggled, visibly and audibly throughout the service, and it was one of those occasions that really got me, not so much during the service, but as everyone came out...I felt my eyes well up a bit.

I don't know if it was the quiet humility of it, or because I'm under the weather, or the story of a man who came to the UK to work, who nearly returned to his native Spain, but who fell in love with a lady, and after agreeing to a month apart to see how they both felt, an arrangement to meet on a given day and time if it was meant to be, that confirmed that it really was. I love hearing stories from a time we'll never see again - an era of letter writing, not texting, patience not instant gratification.

13/09/2025

BACK WITH A BANG

When I signed off before my holiday last month, I truly thought that I'd be coming back to a fairly 'steady' September (in a work sense), based on 4 years of experience now, I anticipated I would likely do a single figure number of services - after all, I took 20 days out of work, and I was fine with that.

Last August when we went to Chicago, we were away for a similar amount time, and in the month of September I led 7 services, and my first one wasn't until 12th September....so you can see why I thought I was in for a gentle ease back...

It hasn't quite turned out that way - before I left I had two services already prepared for the 4th September. I returned home with five more services booked in, and took several more in the days following. Four services were this week, and as things stand, I have 18 services in September, plus 3 for October.

I don't usually talk about numbers in that way (I know I've talked about the taboo of 'quiet patches' before, linked to the fear of gig work) but I don't usually post about how many services I've done in a week or a month, it's just not what I'm about. But that's where I'm at at the moment, and for me, 18 is a pretty busy month, I've had months with more, but the crazy thing right now is that I've gone from a standing start on 1st September.

Ordinarily, when I haven't been away on holiday, I find I enter a new month with about 10 - 12 services booked in, but that's rolling...the services at the start of the month I will have already visited and the script writing process will be under way or already done.

When all the visits have to be done in a short space of time, and services to do as well, that's a lot....!

I hasten to add at this point, this isn't a moan, just the truth, and I'm incredibly incredibly grateful to the FDs who have chosen me, with my permission to, even though I was holiday. I'm so lucky to work alongside a group of such loyal people, and to have the chance to work with some I've never worked with before too this month.

And the double and triple whammy this month has been this - my amazing mum, who helps me every week, is having a much deserved trip to Chicago to see my sister and her family, so I'm flying solo all month, and the girls' timetable has gone up several notches, by way of extra classes / programmes. (Yes, this is my fault, I know!!)

What I'm also incredibly grateful for, is my support network - my mum, for helping the rest of the time, meaning some of it is even possible; my fellow activity mums who get it, and we share the ride together, literally!! So thankful!! My friends who listen to me ramble on, incoherently half the time, who offer advice or sometimes not, they just hold space and share in the madness...just doing life. Ed, who just gets on, does what needs doing, especially when I'm drowning, even if his and Lord Khan's brutal honesty is hard to hear (!) "This is just how it is now for the next few years!"

This week, a beautiful message from one of our dance teachers brought tears to my eyes and then out of blue today, I received these gorgeous flowers and message - totally cried!! Sometimes, just knowing that others see you and what you do, and recognise when it's hard, gives you the strength to keep going. And I also have to pay tribute to my three girls who are the reason I'm (trying) to do it all, who make me so proud with their efforts and achievements.

12/08/2025

GRIT
Yorkshire Grit...and a cup of Yorkshire tea as I sit in the garden, having finished my last services now until September.

These 'funeral favours' were handed out at a service I led yesterday afternoon. A nice little touch for a lady who had bags of it.

Her daughter spoke beautifully about grit and grace, adding her own wisdom to the lessons she'd learned from her mum. I didn't think to ask her permission to share them, but I might do.

Instead, here's my musings, from my admittedly, very very tired brain. There's been times in the last few weeks that I've wondered if I have enough grit and determination to get through, or if it's slipped away somehow...swinging from 'come on, I can do this, I'm made of strong stuff' to 'am I just crumbling under all the 'pressures' I feel myself under. I say 'pressure' in quotation marks because I'm aware that some of it is perceived pressure, or pressure I put on myself, than any significant or tangible pressure. Grit or no grit, I'm here, just about. Grateful for the ones that keep me going.

That particular funeral, was very inspiring, but it wasn't without it's challenges in the organising! That was a small pressure which was quickly over. And yesterday, was that situation times two...which was tough!!

I'm definitely ready for a break now, to try and switch my brain off for a while! I actually have one service left to write for September, and I'll still be taking bookings while I'm away, but hopefully the next few weeks will bring some much needed slowness and relaxation ahead of what is usually a busy Autumn season.

I had a brief chat today with someone I work alongside regularly, about the importance of switching off, and trying to compartmentalise aspects of your life, and the difficulties of work like mine in that regard. And I certainty don't have any wisdom or answers about that, but maybe that will be a focus for me in the coming months, and I might just keep this bottle of grit close by, and when things get hard, I'll think about all the things I've faced and got through before, and try to remember what I'm made of.