Susan Barnes Celebrant

15/03/2026

Today is a day to celebrate women.

The ones who brought us into the world.
The ones who raised us.
The ones who loved us, guided us, and shaped who we are.

And also the women who mothered in quieter ways.

Grandmothers, Step-mums, Aunts, Foster mums, the family friends who stepped in and showed up.

Because sometimes the person who mothers us, is not always the one we were born to.

And whether we are mothers ourselves or not, every one of us began with one.

That connection, however it looked, close, complicated, broken
or buried somewhere deep, is unlike any other.

Some people will be celebrating today with flowers and phone calls.

Some will be remembering the woman who is no longer here.

And some mothers will wake up today knowing there will be no card through the door, no message, no call from the child they love.

For them, today can feel especially heavy.

Because motherhood doesn’t end, when a life ends.

The love is still there.
The bond is still there.
The longing too.

And that deserves to be acknowledged.

Because motherhood is not just a role, it is a love that changes lives.

The bond between a mother and child, in whatever shape it lived,
is one of the most powerful relationships we will ever know.

For many of us, it is where we first learned about care, about comfort, about what it means to be loved.

And for others, it may have been the place where they first learned strength, resilience, or the kind of parent they would one day choose to be themselves.

And for those whose mothers have passed before them, today can also be a quiet remembering.

The sound of her laugh, the way she said your name, the little habits you notice that somehow became your own.

So today isn’t only about celebrating mothers.

It’s about honouring women and the extraordinary role they play in our lives.

The women who gave us our beginning, who stood beside us as we grew, who showed us love, strength, patience, courage, or care.

And the women who continue to shape the worldsimply by being who they are.

If today brings celebration, I hope it is full of warmth.

If it brings memory, I hope those memories feel close.

And whatever your story looks like, today is still a moment
to recognise the power of women, the depth of motherhood
and the many ways love and strength are passed from one generation to the next.

To all the women, mothers, and mother figures out there,

Today we celebrate YOU. 🌷 🥰

If there’s a woman in your life who deserves celebrating today,
please let her know.

16/02/2026

It wasn’t about saying goodbye.

That might sound strange, considering what I do.

But when families come to me, it’s rarely because they want a funeral.

It’s because they want to get it right.

They want it told properly.

They want the quirks included.

They want the socks mentioned.

The laugh

The phrases.

The ordinary Tuesday habits.

They want someone who won’t follow a script.

My work isn’t about filling time in a chapel.

It’s about holding a life carefully.

Listening properly.

Finding the thread that runs through everything.

And then speaking it back in a way that feels steady and true.

Respect is telling the truth, not following a template.

If you’re someone who knows you want more than a standard service one day …
Just know, you don’t have to find the words alone.

05/02/2026

Today’s service was a little different.

It was for a gentleman who needed extra care throughout his life, and who spent his adult years living within social care.

He had many likes. But none more than Christmas.

He celebrated Christmas every single day. His tree stayed up. The decorations stayed bright.
Joy didn’t belong to one season.

For many, understandably, losing a loved one in the lead-up to Christmas can mean a quieter, more subdued celebration. Sometimes it’s avoided altogether. And for me, leading services at this time of year often means not mentioning Christmas at all, unless families specifically ask.

So today felt special.

To have Christmas front and centre in this gentleman’s life celebration felt right. And deeply moving.

After all, Christmas is about coming together, with family, with love.

And that is exactly what we did today.

A beautiful, emotion-filled celebration for a wonderful man. May he now rest in peace.

A very special thank you to the incredible teams who have cared for him over the years.
The work you do matters more than words can say. And the love shown today spoke volumes.

And thank you to Sam and Karen at Heart of England Co-op Funerals,
for the care, kindness, and respect shown while he was in your hands.

Thank you and Merry Christmas to all xx

05/12/2025

If I can be of help in any way, call me on 07825300713 🤍

26/11/2025

Call 07825300713 for more information.

24/11/2025

11/11/2025

30/07/2025

Today, we at Heart of England Co-op Funerals bid a solemn farewell to West Midlands true icon. Ozzy Osbourne’s influence reached far beyond music — he touched the lives of millions with his passion, presence, and originality.

As his funeral procession takes place, we hold his loved ones in our thoughts and offer our deepest condolences.

May he rest in peace. 🕊

26/06/2025

Funerals aren’t just formalities. They’re moments that really matter, times when stories are told, memories are shared, and emotions run deep. Having the right person standing at the front, guiding the service, can make all the difference in how your loved one is remembered and how you feel walking away from that day.

A good celebrant doesn’t just turn up and read from a script. They take the time to listen, to really get to know the person who has died, their personality, their quirks, their values, the things that made them, them. They bring warmth, care, and professionalism, creating a space where it’s okay to cry, to laugh, to sit in silence, or to smile at a memory that catches you off guard.

Not all celebrants are the same, and that’s why it’s worth finding someone who feels like the right fit for you and your family. Maybe you want a bit of humour woven in. Maybe you’d like a spiritual element. Or perhaps you just want someone who’s a really good storyteller, who can capture the essence of your person and hold the room with compassion and heart.

The right celebrant will make sure the service feels personal, meaningful, and true to the person you’re saying goodbye to.

And here’s something many people don’t realise; you can choose your own celebrant. You don’t have to go with whoever is suggested first. In fact, making that choice yourself, or encouraging your family to, can take away a lot of the pressure later on. It means you can be confident that when the time comes, the person leading the service will do it in exactly the way you’d hope for.

When we talk about planning a funeral, people often focus on choosing the right Funeral Director and of course, that’s crucial, (ask your celebrant their thoughts, we work with the best). But choosing the right celebrant? That’s just as important… if not more.

Because at the end of the day, the words that are spoken, the way the service feels, and the atmosphere in the room, that’s what stays with people. That’s what helps carry them through their grief.

So, if you’re thinking ahead, take a little time to find someone who truly gets it, someone who can help make the farewell a day you’ll want to remember, for all the right reasons.

29/04/2025

I have had this conversation recently with a family who disagreed with me before their person died but after they died, they changed their mind and said they agreed. They couldn’t see it before, but they do now.

➡️ It is not really the death we are scared of when someone we love is dying, it’s our grief that petrifies us.

Death itself isn’t the enemy. It happens to us all, and it isn’t punishment. It doesn’t happen just because we talk about it. It’s our grief that unsettles us, that stops us from speaking about death, from exploring what it means, from truly understanding it. It’s our anticipatory grief that kicks in and it’s strong.

We often don’t fear death the way we fear loss. The ache of missing someone, the unbearable weight of absence, the uncertainty of how we’ll carry on, that’s the bit that is scary.

That fear of grief keeps us silent about death and dying. It keeps us from asking questions, from preparing, from acknowledging the inevitable.

But here’s the thing: avoiding grief doesn’t make it disappear. It waits. It lingers. It festers. And when death does come, expectedly or otherwise, it crashes in with all the force of the words we never said, the plans we never made, the conversations we never dared to have.

What if, instead, we let ourselves talk about it? Talk about the fact we will die and those we love will die. What if we allow ourselves to feel it now? What if we acknowledged death as part of life, a natural progression for every single one of us? What if we made space for our grief before it overwhelmed us after the fact?

What if we actually learnt about what dying looks like in advance to ease some of the unknown and reduce fear and panic? Because that’s exactly what it does.

I know and see the difference it makes when we give ourselves permission to explore death, we really do support the weight of our grief in so many ways at the same time.

We maybe just don’t or can’t see it yet, but please trust me, it’s true ❤️