Death, funerals and me

12/02/2026

My xennial heart is sad, really really sad.
I know we’ve lost many a celebrity, legend, even, in the last few years. It’s felt a bit relentless hasn’t it; we’re still processing that Catherine O’Hara has left us.

James Van Der Beek might not be a big name to some, but he was part of something that will forever feel to me and many others, like nostalgic warmth and comfort, with a whole load of teenage angst wrapped inside. The post I’m sharing expresses that just perfectly. (Probable written by AI but I’m going to put my dislike of that to one side on this occasion)

But beyond that, it’s clear that he was an incredible human being, husband, father, and friend. And that’s the most important thing. Even if his work wasn’t your thing, I think you’d be hard pressed to not be moved or inspired by the way he spoke about his children and his life.

I followed him on the socials, I knew he was poorly, I knew he was too ill to attend the Dawson’s Creek reunion at the end of last year, but it sounded like that was an illness on top of his cancer.

Since then, he’d been seen out and posted videos of his family only recently. So, it was a real shock to read that quietly and gracefully, for the last few weeks, he’d stopped active treatment and spent his last days and weeks with loved ones under hospice care.

What a guy. I hope his family will be surrounded by love and support, not just now, but always.
Time for another re-watch. 😢

James Van Der Beek has died aged 48, and suddenly an entire generation feels like we just lost a piece of our teenage years.

Before streaming.
Before binge-watching.
Before phones in our hands.

There was a small town called Capeside.

There was a bedroom with posters on the wall.
A TV glowing late at night.
And a theme song that instantly pulled you in.

Dawson’s Creek wasn’t just a show.
It was how we processed first love.
Friendships that changed.
Dreams that felt bigger than our hometowns.

We watched Dawson, Joey, Pacey, Jen —
while we were figuring out who we were too.

Late 90s TV hit differently.

You waited a week for the next episode.
You talked about it at school the next day.
You felt those long dock conversations like they were your own.

And now, hearing this news…
it doesn’t just feel like losing an actor.

It feels like closing the door on a chapter of youth.

The music.
The awkward emotions.
The belief that everything felt huge at 16.

For many of us, that show played during some of the most defining years of our lives.

Tonight, a lot of 90s kids are remembering where they were when they first watched it.

And maybe realizing how fast the years have gone.

So long James Van Der Beek.
Thank you for being part of our growing up. 💔

06/02/2026

Two posts in as many days?! Whaaat?!

No Peter Pan collar today...although I don't always join in with themes, as my wardrobe only has so much space, I didn't need much pursuading to wear my Manchester City shirt today. It was a sea of blue 💙

Following on from my post the other day about the importance of language, today was one of those occasions when words cannot capture the magnitude, the tragedy and the emotion. My stance is, don't even try - don't pretend you can, so say that, then offer what you can, with meaning and care.

And that's all I have to say about that. (F.G.)

Proud to have been asked and we hope we did them proud. ❤️‍🩹🦋💙

04/02/2026

WORLD CANCER DAY

In a time where every one of us is surely touch by cancer in some way – family members, friends... ourselves - the statistics are sickening, we have to hold on to the hope that research will continue to improve treatments and outcomes. I could talk about my own experience with cancer – I’ve referenced it before, and it was 15 years in January since I was classed as in remission...

But what I’ve been thinking about lately, is the language we use around cancer and other illnesses. It’s something I’ve been very mindful of for a long time, but I’ve been consciously contemplating it again – a couple of things have prompted that – one is an audio book that I listened to recently called “Confessions Of A Funeral Director” by Caleb Wilde, and the other was a young girl called Brielle Nicole Bird, who died just before Christmas – she / her family had a big following on social media detailing her journey living with cancer, I came across it, through another account I followed, and like so many others, I followed and hoped for the miracle that they were praying for, and felt the collective sense of sadness and admiration for Brielle and her whole family.

When people have died, following illness, I find it’s really common to hear people say things like “lost their battle with”, or “lost the fight” and similar. Now, to be clear, I am in no way criticising people’s choice of language in highly emotive, difficult situations. I’m reflecting on and talking about myself, in the role that I do. If these musings strike a chord with you or provoke reflection too, that’s great, but I’m not here for judgement, only to air my thoughts, to explain how I feel about it and how I try to approach things.

For a long time now, I’ve tried to avoid using language that suggests someone “lost” a ‘battle’ or a ‘fight’ with a disease or illness. Although the medical / scientific fact is that someone’s body could not continue to survive with the condition, I don’t like the implication that someone was ‘weaker’ in any so-called fight, or that they didn’t fight hard enough.

I know most people don’t over-think it or see if that way, and families will frequently say to me that someone “fought” for a long time or “they were a fighter” and these things are absolutely true, and meaningful, and we are often proud of how someone ‘fights’ against illness, and if those are their words, that’s different.

But even when I use that type of language within a service, I tend to phrase it more as “They carried on for as long as they could” or “they were strong”, I have said “they were a fighter” but I would avoid saying they “lost the fight or the battle”. I try to use language that says “they lived with the illness…they lived as well as they could, for as long as they could” "They were incredibly brave and dignified in the face of illness."

So, I would say someone “died after living with cancer” rather than lost a battle with cancer. It might seem too subtle to matter, or you may think it pedantic even, but I think language does matter.

In contrast to this – Brielle’s family and friends, who are deeply religious, use similar language but in the opposite way – they referred to “winning the fight” and “graduating this life” – i.e. winning the chance to go to the afterlife and to see Jesus. And I found this really interesting, and I can see why that flip of the language that others may use, brings comfort.

Whilst, my own beliefs could never allow me to see it that way, and I would never go that far with the language – certainly not in my own words –only if a family wanted me to say that, it offers an opportunity, yet again, to think about the impact those words and how they are used, has on us.

Cancer is s**t. Completely and utterly. But I think there’s something to be said for not using language that puts cancer as the winner.

I couldn’t use language that, to me, felt as though I was minimising death in anyway or telling anyone they shouldn't be sad – therefore I wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about ‘graduating from this life into the next, or into the arms of Jesus’ because I just don’t have those beliefs, but for those who do, who get comfort from that, I’m glad.

But I still think there’s a version of a death positive narrative that I can take; I think it reinforces my belief in talking about living with illness, and dying after living with illness, rather than being beaten by it.

Caleb Wilde’s book details his journey into the family funeral directing business, his relationship with religion and how he feels about the narratives around death and dying was really interesting, and it linked to some of the language and themes in Brielle’s story.

He talks about the ‘death negative’ narrative and religion and his feelings – both personally and professionally, and he gives very considered and balanced descriptions of his internal struggle with it all. In the end, he shapes his own narrative and reaches a place of acceptance with his own beliefs and how they sit within his work and his wider life.

There’s so much to take from it, I need to re-listen and make physical notes this time, not just mental ones. One of many take aways from it, is that it does matter what we say, it does matter how we talk about things, and it does matter how it makes people feel.

I’d love to hear your thoughts. 💕

30/01/2026

JANUARY BLUES

January. Over and out. In a work sense. What a month! Psychologically, it's longest month, and for me it's been a month where I've done the most funeral services I've ever done. I'm in territory now that a couple of years ago, I wouldn't have thought possible.

So it's been long and it's been hard, it's dark and it's cold and the weather has been, in the main, pretty miserable!! But it's also been rewarding and humbling and I'm constantly grateful for the work that comes my way and the people I meet along the way.

Next month looks set to be a little quieter, and with February half term on the horizon, I've so far stood firm on taking a couple of days off (and wouldn't you just believe I've regrettably had to say I'm sorry four times already for those days, including two personal requests, which is always extremely difficult).

Today was a gentle, sad, but poignant end to the week, with a service close to home, for a lovely family I've now worked with three times. Leeds United shirts were the order of the day...which I didn't join in with, but I did go for a navy number, which matched with some of the away shirts. The family kindly gave me some flowers from the arrangement to take home. 💕

I've also paid the remainder of my tax bill. So if you see me looking rather unwell, be gentle, please. Be gentle to all the self employed souls you know. It's a tough time. 🤢😑🙃

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 💔