Love in the time of Coronavirus #2

When I wrote my last blog we were allowed 25 in the crematorium chapel – for weeks now it’s been only 10. There’s no waiting room, chairs are spaced apart and most services are live streamed or recorded. But it’s not all bad, in fact if people could only hug each other it wouldn’t be that bad at all. The reduced numbers means that services are quieter – there’s no singing- but to be honest often people don’t know the hymns so the singing can be lacklustre even with a full chapel. If you have ten people who really love you and want to see you go then that’s good – I’ve done funerals  pre CV19 with less than 10 mourners.  The atmosphere is totally different. There’s no backing up or cross over of arrivals and departures, (my local crem has a particularly poorly designed flow around the site), each service seems to have more space to breathe.

The weather has definitely helped - this glorious spring has made the gardens burst with life, the birds are singing their hearts out and it reminds us that life goes on all around us – in the midst of death we are in life. Last week a man came up to me after a service and said ‘I’ve been to many, many funerals  here and this was one of the best – it was so peaceful.’ Without a big attendance or a wake to hold the family can just sit with their nearest and dearest; they aren’t having to work the room or play to the  gallery or put on a brave face. It’s honest, it’s close, it’s raw.

I’ve seen several families sharing a drink afterwards in the car park – funerals are always a time to catch up with wider family and I do hate to see the yearning to hug and touch being unfulfilled. That I will be happy to see changed, but I’m not in a hurry to go back to big showy funerals.