Almost everyone who has tried it advocates wherever possible looking after at least some aspects of the funeral of friends and relatives oneself, with the assistance of family and neighbours, without depending entirely on funeral directors. This chapter, parts of which are not for the squeamish, aims to help you find the courage to organise and design such a funeral, by arming you with the essential information and with tales from some pioneers. The next chapter, however, gives advice about particular undertakers, cemeteries, crematoria and other services. The suggested advantages for a 'd-i-y' funeral are that:
Participating in this way, according to psychotherapists, helps people to begin to come to terms with their loss;
You have the option of trying for a Greener funeral if you so wish;
It can be a great deal cheaper - potentially free if the body is buried in a shroud on your own land, or from about £200 if cremation is used (whereas a recent Chosen Heritage survey found the average cost of a funeral in the South of England to be £1,025);
You have more control over every aspect of the funeral, which can as a consequence be a much more personal and less 'assembly-line' affair.
Below are some of the stories from the front line, with a discussion of the points they raise; first, a letter that appeared in The Times from the Reverend Canon Raymond Wilkinson of Warwick, who looks back nostalgically to the past and urges relatives not to hand over funerals entirely to the trade:
Undertakers were - and are - neither necessary nor obligatory; but we in this country increasingly divorce ourselves from this last service to our relatives by handing everything over to the professionals - often to the choice of sadly over-used hymns.
One of the most memorable funerals I have conducted (from a total of about 5,000) involved no undertakers. The relatives laid out the body; the coffin was made by friends; the family bore it from their own car; after the chuch service, they lowered the coffin into the grave which they had dug.
A few weeks ago (without, of course, the grave) I conducted just such a funeral at the local crematorium. Could it be that an uncommon but godly sense of what funerals are about is returning? Personal involvement may be painful, but it represents reality and personal accountability - as well as a proper reminder of our own mortality.
The dramatic increase in crematorium disposal of the dead in this century is said to be largely in the interests of convenience, cleanliness and conservation. Where convenience is an over-riding factor that may well be so. But ashes are useless to growing plants, and I have yet to read of a health risk proven regarding burials.
Churchyards remained relatively small until the 19th century because the usual small wooden memorials decayed, families died out, bones discovered were placed in the charnel-houses built in churchyards, and God's Acre was re-used. On the Continent today, such economy of land is general. Grave space there is re-used, unless further leases are paid for.
It seems to me that journeys to distant, and often somewhat ugly, crematoria have added expense and detachment where death is concerned. Any enquiry into spiralling costs of undertaking needs to be linked to our increasing detachment from involvement domestically and parochially with our departed friends and relatives.
From a letter to The Times (April 25th 1991) from the Reverend Canon Raymond Wilkinson, 42 Coten End, Warwick.
The parish burials of the past that Wilkinson refers to were originally ecologically sound affairs: back in the 15th Century, the body was hygienically wrapped in a shroud and the parish coffin, stored in the church, would be re-used time and again - in some parts of the country, indeed, town councils decreed that funerals should be 'shroud only' with coffins for the privileged few who could obtain special permission (see the fascinating account in 'The English Way of Death' by Julian Litten, pages 123 to 129). The Natural Death Centre has visions of a similar Green funeral service in the future, where the coffin could be re-used (and often delivered directly to the next family needing it) with a biodegradable body bag preventing any 'leakages' into the coffin.
Wilkinson questions whether crematoria are environmentally friendly. So which is better for the environment, being buried or cremated?
In the UK cremation was originally presented as the environment-friendly option, with the anti-burial slogan of 'keeping the land for the living'. Nowadays cemeteries and churchyards help protect the land from the living, preventing land being used for development and often acting as a refuge for wildlife. (Some of the few bits of green space left in Tokyo are graveyards - although some bodies in Tokyo now have to be kept in special warehouses close to the railway stations until burial space can be found in country graveyards.) In some countries, in the early days of cremation, the body was taken out of its coffin before being incinerated; nowadays, however, the coffins are all wastefully burnt and we are in the realms of European regulations concerning the pollution of the atmosphere and ground water from the glues used, and from the heavy metals, hydrochrolic acid, carbon dioxide, sulphur dioxide and hydrofluoric acid emitted in the burning process.
More forests are planted if more wood can be sold, so as long as these forests are not entirely monoculture ones, it could be argued that wooden coffins are to the benefit of the planet's tree cover. Furthermore, in the case of burial, they help prevent the greenhouse effect by locking up and burying the carbon in the timber. Thus at present burial seems to be a Greener option than cremation, at least for the time being, particularly if the idea of cemeteries as nature reserves, discussed later in this chapter, catches on.
Jane Spottiswoode, who lives near Bala in North Wales, shares similar doubts to those of Raymond Wilkinson about the encroachments of the funeral industry, and has written a spirited book, 'Undertaken with Love', describing the funeral of her husband:
Jane set about arranging Nigel's funeral during his second period in hospital. Immediately, she came across the first of numerous hurdles - that of purchasing a coffin. Armed with the Yellow Pages, she settled down to try to find one but was soon met with much hostility. No manufacturer would supply her with one; she was told they only supplied to funeral directors. So she turned to the undertakers themselves, but the results were the same. They would only supply a coffin as part of their full service.
Jane grew cunning. She was, she said, a theatrical producer, intending to tour village halls with an amateur production of 'A Scent of Flowers' by James Saunders, a play she knew well and one which had a coffin on the stage throughout. 'Oh no we couldn't possibly supply one of our coffins for that sort of thing!' said the lady on the telephone. 'Why not?' asked Jane. 'It might offend our customers,' came the prim reply. Surely not the audience in distant village halls? 'They are all our potential customers,' said the lady, but before putting down the receiver on this incontrovertible truth, she revealed the name of a firm which Jane will always hold in great regard - that of S S Joinery, Stoke on Trent, who would supply a coffin in veneer chipboard for £34-50 plus VAT as long as she could collect it herself.
At a total cost of £197-97 against the £700 or so charged by the Co-op, Nigel Spottiswoode's funeral was certainly cheap. But that wasn't the main point. From start to finish she regarded it as an act of affectionate respect, as did his pall-bearing friends. 'My husband was merely taken to the crematorium by his friends, instead of employing a stranger to do it. That was all it amounted to, really, and if more people realised how comparatively easy it can be with a little forethought, they might like to consider it for themselves.'
Although in excellent health, Jane Spottiswoode has already purchased her own coffin which she keeps in the loft, tucked away in the shadows behind the water tank to avoid alarming the plumber.
From publicity material for 'Undertaken with Love' by Jane Spottiswoode.
Incidentally, Jane Spottiswoode subsequently discovered that SS Joinery denied all knowledge of having supplied a coffin to her. In China, many elderly share her desire to have a coffin ready in advance (they get the children to buy one for them). And as for putting the body on the compost heap, a letter writer to The Independent quoted with approval an advertisement in James Joyce's 'Ulysses': 'Well preserved fat corpse, gentleman, epicure, invaluable for fruit garden. A bargain £3-13-6.' Andrew Kerr has suggested further research into how body composting could work:
The corpse could be taken to the Compostorium and placed in a specially constructed autoclave or pressure cooker. The corpse would have already been disembowelled and that material placed into a methane digester; this would have averted the potential danger of pathogens. The gas so generated would contribute to the slow and steady heat required to render the remains to a condition ready to be ground up to a kind of slurry to be 'intimately mixed' with straw and other vegetable wastes.
The whole process would be completed in about twelve weeks or so: a decent time for mourning. The finished compost could then be incorporated into the family memorial garden.
This would be far better than burial which is too deep for aerobic processes, or wasteful incineration which is damaging to the environment.
From a letter from Andrew Kerr, Oak Tree Cottage, 89 Netherton Road, Appleton, Abingdon, Oxon OX13 5LA (tel 0865 862237).
So how is the city dweller to manage without the municipal mortuary? If the person has died in hospital, the mortuary there might be willing to look after the body for a few days, most probably without charge; or a funeral director might be willing to provide just this facility without the complete package (certainly many of those listed in the next chapter are willing to do this). If the person has died at home, the body could be kept in a room with the window open, in the coldest room in the house or in the cellar if necessary. In rural France a special refrigeration plate is often placed under the body so as to make it possible for the body to remain in the house while relatives come to pay their respects. Wrapped ice cubes could be placed by the body. Or dry ice (which gradually sublimates to a carbon dioxide mist without leaving a wet puddle) could be used - it has been used on occasion by mortuaries, when their equipment breaks down; and is widely used in Japan in hot weather to allow the body to be remain on a futon at home before the funeral. One supplier in London for dry ice in pellet form is BOC Ltd Hackney, 59 Eastway, London E9 5NS (tel 081 985 5544), where 10kg, approximately three days' supply, can be collected 8am to 5pm daily (Saturdays 8am to 1pm) for £25-03 including VAT, or it can be sent to you express by TNT for a grand total of £33-28.
In some religions, such as Tibetan Buddhism, it is argued that it is best to leave the body undisturbed for several days after death, to allow the complete departure of the soul. And in the West, there are many who emphasise the importance of allowing family members and relatives to see the body - and of giving even young children this opportunity, although not insisting if they prefer to stay away.
Bereaved parents denied the opportunity to see and touch the bodies of their dead children often deeply regret this. The purpose of concealing grief seems to be to protect other people, not the griever.
We arrived at the hospital just after 10.15 pm: no one was expecting us. 'Everybody has gone and I should have gone too by now,' a social worker said. My friend and I were put in a small anteroom and the door was closed. We had been put into a box with the lid closed to spare us the sight of panicky people rushing to and fro, telephone calls being made, while the system was reassembled for us.
Apparently there was great rushing about preparing Timothy for viewing. Putting a piece of gauze over a graze on his head was regarded as important so that I should not be offended or frightened or disgusted. We walked along a corridor. We arrived at a door. It was opened. No more hope; no more thinking it might not be Timothy. Incredibly, it was my Timothy, my lovely boy.
He was lying on an altar covered by a purple cloth edged with gold braid and tassles. Only his head was visible. Such was the atmosphere of constraint I either asked or was given permission to enter. I can't remember. I entered alone. The others watched through the open door. I stroked his cheek. He was cold.
Timothy had not ceased to be my child. I deperately needed to hold him, to look at him, to find out where he was hurting. These instincts don't die immediately with the child. The instinct to comfort and cuddle, to examine the wounds, to try to understand, most of all to hold. But I had been told not to do 'anything silly'. They were watching to see that I didn't. So I couldn't move the purple cloth. I couldn't find his hand. I couldn't do anything. I betrayed my instincts and my son by standing there 'not doing anything silly'. I knew that if I did my watchers would immediately constrain me and lead me away.
Why? No doubt they thought they were acting for the best. We, as a society, have lost contact with our most basic instincts. We marvel at cats washing and caring for their kittens. We admire the protection an elephant gives her sick calf and are tearful and sympathetic when she refuses to leave her offspring when he dies, when she examines and nuzzles him and wills him to breathe. This is exactly what the human mother's most basic instinct tells her to do. And we deny her. She is being denied her motherhood when in extremis.
We have come to think we are protecting her when we are really protecting ourselves. We have forgotten that this is the mother who has cleaned up the vomit, washed his nappies, cleaned the blood from his wounds, kissed him better and held him in his distress. She has done all this since the day he was born. If he has been in hospital she has possibly fed him by tube, she may have changed his dressings and given injections. She will certainly have washed him, helped him to dress and combed his hair. She will have held him. Who are we protecting when we deny her this last service which she can do for her child? We are not protecting the child. We are not protecting her. The fact of her child's death is not altered by the denial of her instincts.
Having nursed my mother through her last illness, I was privileged to bathe her after death, put clean dressings on her wounds, remove her catheter. It was a tearful and loving last service that my sister and I were privileged to perform for her. It helped to heal our grief. But my lovely boy was draped on an altar, covered with a robe, and all expressions of love and care I had were denied to me. And I don't know when that wound will heal. The caring services should think again about how we serve the bereaved. A cup of tea and an aseptic look at the body does not serve. If it is our wish and instinct to hold and wash the body and to talk to the dead loved one, we should be helped to do this. We will be distressed and may frequently need to stop and wipe the tears, but we will be helped in our healing.
From an article by Sheila Awoonor-Renner in The Guardian (Mar. 15th '91).
From a more academic perspective, one researcher, Therese Rando, has written, with reference to adult deaths as well as children's:
Those who did not view the body or had arranged for immediate disposition of the remains (excluding the normal Jewish custom of not viewing the body) reported the greatest hostility following the death, the greatest increase in consumption of alcohol, tranquilisers and sedatives, the greatest increase in tension and anxiety, the lowest positive recall of the deceased and greater problems in adjustment to the death, particularly among male respondents.
From 'Grief, Dying and Death' by Therese Rando (Champaign, USA; Research Press Co., 1984) quoted in 'Caring For Your Own Dead' by Lisa Carlson.
A surprising number of people are frightened that they will be buried alive. Indeed this has occasionally happened. Back in 1912, the Funeral Service Journal reported:
In Galicia, the body of George Masug, a rich landowner, was being interred, and the last prayers were being said by the officiating priests at the open grave amid weeping, when, as the bereaved relatives were dropping earth on the coffin, ghastly sounds were heard to proceeed from it. The cover was lifted and a panic arose among members of the family when the supposed-dead man was found to be alive. He was at once freed from his terrible position. Masug, who was supposed to have died from apoplexy, soon recovered and was able to walk home with the mourners.
A recent newspaper report from China tells of a Chinese teenager who was buried in his coffin having been unconscious for ten hours from drinking too much alcohol. When the body was later exhumed, it was apparent that the boy had died trying to claw his way out of the coffin. And one perhaps over-suspicious correspondent has complained to The Natural Death Centre about 'the unsavoury practice of removing people from nursing homes to undertakers' parlours before being certified or seen by a doctor, even though a qualified nurse may have expressed an opinion that the person was dead. The reason why it is unsatisfactory is that most undertakers either embalm, sew the gums together or refrigerate the person immediately they arrive on the premises. The consequences of a person not being actually dead are horrific.'
These may well be very unrealistic fears in Western society today - although in a study of 150,000 exhumed American war-dead from World War II in Europe it was revealed that no less than 6,000 (4%) showed signs of having been buried alive. In any case, keeping the body at home for several days can reassure all concerned that the person is truly dead. It has also been argued that doctors should use tests like the Ether test and the Icard test that are completely reliable indicators of death.
One correspondent wrote to The Natural Death Centre that she felt 'somewhat un-nerved' when washing the body of her husband an hour after he had died, 'to see the purple/bluish state of his back and buttocks, due to the blood draining into it, once circulation stopped'.
For some religious communities, such as Sikhs and Muslims, preparing the body for burial by gently washing the body is an act of devotion that family members insist on, even if they have to go to do it in the undertaker's premises. For many Jews, the body should remain untouched for twenty minutes after death, with all washing and preparation the prerogative of the Jewish community.
When the person is dying at home, it is as well to ensure that the doctor (not just the nurses) sees the patient within 14 days of the death (28 days in Northern Ireland). This will normally avoid the death being referred to the coroner. After the person has died, the doctor will (without charge) fill in a medical certificate as to the cause of death. (If cremation is wanted, the doctor charges for the relevant form - and will need to know about any operations in the past year - and the doctor gets another doctor to fill in a similar form, for a total charge of £57, known in the trade as 'ash cash'; the forms are issued by crematoria and also stocked by funeral directors.)
If the person dies in hospital, you can refuse permission for a post-mortem (to learn more about the cause of death) if you wish. The coroner will have to issue a certificate as to the cause of death (and may insist on a post-mortem) if there were unusual circumstances surrounding the death. But the coroner can issue an interim certificate to allow the executors to begin work on sorting out the deceased's affairs.
As the next-of-kin or the person arranging the funeral you then take the medical certificate (if the doctor does not send it for you) to the Registrar of Births and Deaths. You have to do this within five days (eight days in Scotland) or within 42 days in the case of a stillborn child. Find out which registrar covers your area by looking up under 'R' in the phone book, 'Registration of Births, Deaths and Marriages', and checking by phone with whichever seems to be the nearest office to you and asking whether or not they have an appointments system. In Scotland the registrar will want to know the time of death as well as the date and place of death.
Make certain the registrar has correctly recorded all the details in the registry as it is very complicated getting them altered once it has all been signed.
Take with you also information about the deceased's banks, friendly societies, life insurance and so on, and then the Registrar should be able to estimate how many copies of the various types of death certificate you will need to be able to claim these assets. It is easier and cheaper to obtain as many copies as you may need and an extra one in case, at the time (or soon after), for £1-50 to £2 each (£3-50 Scotland), rather than later when it can cost £5 or more (£6 Scotland).
The basic white certificate that you will also be given is free and contains a social security form for claiming benefit arrears and widow's benefit.
You may need to give a registrar three clear working days' notice before a burial can take place. A 'Notice of Interment' form must be completed and this, together with the necessary Disposal Certificate (either the registrar's or the coroner's), may be required by a cemetery at least 24 hours before a burial. Likewise, the forms permitting cremation may be required by a crematorium at least 24 hours in advance of cremation.
Jane Spottiswoode had problems moving her husband Nigel's body after he died:
There was no way that Nigel in his coffin and with the coffin in a horizontal position, could be carried out of the room and around all the corners and down the stairs to where the Volvo was waiting. Since then I have learned that the way it is done by the professionals is in a body bag, which is much easier to handle, and then transferred to a coffin either in the pick-up vehicle or at the undertakers.
From 'Undertaken with Love' by Jane Spottiswoode.
A wide range of body bags can be bought from Lear of London (for details see the listings in the next chapter for the London region) who have a minimum order of £30. You can also go through Green Undertakings (see the next chapter for the North East region).
If you do not have access to a suitable estate car or van for transport, and cannot find a friend with one, it may be possible to persuade your local undertaker to help. See the section on undertakers in the next chapter - the best quote we had for this service was £25 (or £100 if a hearse and bearers were wanted). Or a transit van can be hired through the Yellow Pages for a few hours from about £20 to £50.
In retrospect, that may have been partly because of our experiences when she was bedridden. Ma had preferred that her sheets be changed by family members, for example, even though trained nurses were far more skilled at replacing sheets on an occupied bed. That was because we took the time to rub her feet. She remarked more than once she needed her feet rubbed more than she needed the sheets changed. Yet nurses always seemed too busy to provide that extra attention.
When it came time for burial and tributes, the qualities of thoughtfulness, consideration, and love seemed far more important than professional expertise. Those qualities were abundant among Ma's family and friends.
The family had been inclined toward cremation, but Ma had specifically requested burial, so two of my brothers built a simple pine casket and brought it to the apartment. Another brother spent an hour with Ma, quietly saying goodbye. Then each of us joined him, lifting a corner of the sheet to place Ma's body in the box.
The burial site my mother had requested was unavailable, so we chose what we guessed would be an equally desirable location for her: a hilltop owned by her brother where she had spent many happy years.
We needed approval from the municipal clerks of the city where Ma died and the town where she was to be buried. Neither clerk was very familiar with the tasks, since the forms are usually filled out by funeral directors who are deputised for that purpose. Both clerks, however, were extremely responsive and helpful. After checking with health officers and other officials, they performed their duties with a minimum of delay.
My brothers and I transported the coffin in my pick-up truck, and spent the next eight hours digging the grave by hand. It was hard work, in clay soil with many large rocks.
This task culminated weeks of shared work and shared emotions which brought the four of us closer together than anything else we could have possibly done. For many years we had been separated by distance, careers and individual commitments. By working together at a time of great need we renewed and strengthened our family bonds. For my brothers and me, the private burial was the best way to say goodbye to our mother.
But others also needed a chance to pay their respects. (Although Ma was deeply religious, she was not a church member, so we had no prescribed procedure for honouring her.) We took the easiest route we could think of. We announced a memorial gathering a week after burial, brought a few jugs of cider, accepted offers by others to provide additional refreshments, and played it by ear.
Scores of people showed up, including some who drove great distances. None of us knew everybody else. The only thing we had in common was that Mary Jane had touched each of our lives in profound ways. But that was actually a lot to have in common, and gathering together, at least this one time, was important.
Lacking any formal rituals, we sat around the hillside grave site, saying and doing whatever seemed appropriate. Some spoke words of tribute, some recalled meaningful incidents and experiences, some sang songs, some planted flowers.
As far as I know, nobody felt uncomfortable, out of place or unfulfilled. There were many comments about what a moving, special experience it was. Some of us remained long after the anticipated two or three hours, conversing and recalling our memories until sunset.
Overall financial costs were minimal (wood and nails for the coffin were worth a few dollars, as were the cider and other refreshments) and we were able to earmark whatever was left of Mary Jane's bank account (after her bills were paid) for publication of a book of her final writings.
From 'Caring For Your Own Dead' by Lisa Carlson.
Rural parts of Montana in the United States can include an extreme form of 'recycling' of the body after burial, according to Stephen Levine, who writes:
From 'Who Dies?' by Stephen Levine.
In the UK the early Quakers were often buried in their gardens. But nowadays, how do people in the UK go about arranging a funeral on their own land? One of The Natural Death Centre's contacts arranged this after the sudden death of her husband from a heart attack by asking her lawyer to set aside a part of the large back garden in perpetuity for the grave, so that this part would not sold with the rest of the house and grounds. Few council officials will know how limited the laws are surrounding private burial - see Ian Alcock's struggles, below - so if you approach them for their blessing, go armed with the information in this chapter. Myths abound - some books say, for instance, that there must be no neighbours within a hundred yards, but this relates to a part of the 1855 Burials Act (Ch. 128, S. 9) which has been repealed (and in Scotland applies only to council cemeteries).
Alcock has built his own coffin: 'It cost me £40 for the plywood and is big enough for two (in case my wife and I go at the same time) and on account of my lack of carpentry expertise, has a certain "rustic charm". The postman refused to believe that it was a coffin until I put rope handles or slings round it (to avoid the corpse falling out of the bottom) and sprayed "RIP" on it with a black sheep marker. It is now in store in a building awaiting me. The dogs peed on it when it was outside, but I had a strong friend help me to move it. Incidentally, a friend has told me that she has recently paid a £1,000 undertaker's bill (and it is cheaper up here) for the "simplest possible" funeral for her father.'
Ian Alcock, Shannel, Ballogie, Aboyne, Aberdeenshire AB34 5DR (tel & fax 03398 84207).
Ian Alcock subsequently successfully appealed against the need for planning permission. The Scottish Office, in the person of the Deputy Chief Reporter R. M. Hickman (Ref. P/PPA/GD/342, Nov. 25th 1992), ruled that 'a limited number of unmarked and unfenced graves would not constitute a material change of use and I conclude that the planning consent issued to you by the district council is superfluous'. This precedent could be quoted by any family planning a d-i-y burial. The Natural Death Centre has prepared the following summary of the requirements for England, gathered from a cemetery's superintendent and from material sent in by J. B. Bradfield and from other sources.
All disposals by burial are governed by the various Burial Acts and Regulations enacted by Parliament from 1847.
There is nothing in the law of burial which prohibits burial in private or unconsecrated land or which requires a coffin or a service or permission from any government minister. A place of burial without fences or gravestones is not a cemetery in planning law and 'subject to any restrictive covenants, can be established by any person without statutory authority, provided that no nuisance is caused' (Halsbury's 'Laws of England', Butterworth, Fourth edition, 1975, p. 504). Incidentally, no one can legally 'own' a body.
If a search of the property deeds reveals a covenant restricting burial which no longer seems to serve a useful purpose, a court application can be made to remove the covenant.
By all means check with the local planning authority whether or not they consider that planning permission is required for the use of the ground. As mentioned, planning permission, whether in Scotland or elsewhere in the UK, should not normally be required for a limited number of unmarked and unfenced burials. Planning departments have a free 'Certificate of Lawfulness' procedure whereby a member of the public can write in to establish formally whether or not permission is required.
It is also wise, although not legally required, to contact the local environmental health department. However, they should only intervene (with abatement notices, etc) after the event, when public health has been put at risk or there has been a 'statutory nuisance'. D-i-y graves do not legally need their sanction in advance.
No offensive matter from the grave shall flow or foul any stream, canal, reservoir, aquaduct, pond or watering place. It could be as well to consult with the National Rivers Authority (which may soon be merged with HM Inspectorate of Pollution; their present phone number is 071 820 0101). Animal carcases, for instance, normally have to be buried 250 metres from any human-consumption water supply, 30 metres from any other spring and 10 metres from any field drain.
There is no knowing how future owners of the land might regard the presence of a grave in it.
They could not exhume the body without a licence from the Home Secretary, but it would be possible for them to apply for such a licence in order that they might arrange for reburial elsewhere. It is difficult to comment on what view the Home Office would take on such an application.
It is necessary to carry out the requirements of the Registration Acts and to make a proper record of such a burial, at the local Registry for Births and Deaths.
From Jonathon Porritt's column in the Daily Telegraph.
Nick Evans, a gardener and builder and ex-sales manager in Shropshire, is seeking to purchase a two or three acre field near Ludlow, subject to planning permission, that will allow him to turn it into a green, no-frills burial ground for 100 plots. Disgusted by all the trimmings and waste at a family funeral he attended, he is trying to encourage funerals without hearses, etc, where the body would be buried in the simplest coffin. To make the site as natural as possible, rather than using a gravestone a commemorative tree would be planted, hung with a discreet plaque. The aim is to cut the expenses involved in funerals, to have funerals 'without fuss but with dignity', and to make it an option suitable particularly for people who want a secular, environmentally-friendly burial. (Nick Evans, The Bell House, Wooferton, Ludlow, Shropshire SY8 4AL, tel 0584 711 342.)
The City of Carlisle is planning to build a 'return to nature' cemetery, with graves in small groups and oak trees planted on top. The public locally seem keen on the idea, the council are in favour, and only ratecapping is delaying the scheme. Here are adapted extracts from an article by their cemeteries superintendent, Ken West:
The creation of a memorial woodland resource would benefit the environment and could be returned to the community after the expiry of grave rights. It could then form part of a country park or a green lung, for walking, pony trekking or similar. However, part of the intangible benefits are a 'return to nature' and the need to encourage insects, birds and mammals. This cannot be achieved if everybody visits their grave, stamping out paths and disturbing the woodland. Nor can memorials be placed on graves, as rank natural growth could denote neglect. I have opted for a memorial wall at the entrance to the woodland which would allow a small plaque for every grave.
For the layout of the graves, I prefer a double grave with burials side by side, at a depth of 4ft 3in. This allows, after a burial, the planting of a tree on the used portion of the grave. There would be space for 900 graves to the acre, about 9% less than our current setting out. This is more than compensated for by the reduced excavation costs, drainage problems, backfilling, reinstatement of sunken graves, etc. Additionally, the cost of a traditional new grave had to include new roads, deep drainage, etc, which will not apply in the same degree with this scheme.
People choosing the woodland concept before death will have gained a real psychological benefit - a piece of woodland and a real, living memorial instead of a dull, dead stone. Perhaps the test of any product is 'would you use it yourself?' I can state clearly that I would and refer you to these lines from 'Drummer Hodge' by Thomas Hardy:
His homely Northern breast and brain
And strange eyed constellations reign
Ken West, The Cemetery Office, Richardson Street, Carlisle CA2 6AL (tel 0228 25022). Woodland graves for a 50 year endowment period are being sold in advance from this address.
J. B. Bradfield of Harrogate writes: 'After two and a half years of correspondence with the Charity Commsission, I've finally got agreement in principle to create a registered charity that combines nature reserves and human (and pet) burial grounds. I believe that by being able to select burial in land in which nature has a prior claim, there will be a qualitative shift in emotional experience, away from the "warehousing of the dead" in cemeteries and churchyards.' Plans are in hand for the first site to be adjacent to an ancient woodland designated as a Site of Special Scientific Interest, which has strong approval from English Nature and the County Wildlife Trust. Access to the graves will be encouraged, particularly to assist with wildlife management. Trees from local seed could be planted on graves. In his letter to The Natural Death Centre he adds:
I'm concerned that we should be able to take full control over dying and death. This means being able to avoid the use of undertakers (et al) or to buy only those services required from them. It could mean digging the grave oneself having chosen the location, or digging it with a group of friends and relatives. Health and safety factors need to be fully taken account of, but are not barriers in themselves. Risks can be reduced by making shallow graves, which are also more environmentally benign. 'The depths of graves are not legislated for unless the cemetery is situated in an area where the Towns Improvement Act 1847 is in force, which then specifies a minimum of 30 inches from ground level to the top of the coffin. It would not be illegal for a company to bury a coffin 12 inches ...' (Stride, M. [1990:58] 'Burial in "The Back Garden" - is it Lawful?' J. Inst. Burial & Cremation. Admin. Summer 1990 Vol.58, No.2, p. 58). [Eds: The burial needs to be deep enough to prevent foraging dogs from trying to dig up the body. The Local Authorities' Cemeteries Order 1977 specifies 24 inches for clay soil and 36 inches for sandy soil.]
I'm also keen that coffins not be used unless environmentally benign, such as second-hand timbers from doors, floors and pallets. A ban will be placed on tropical hardwoods even those from assumed sustainable sources. A coffin is said by some to be required for transporting the corpse, but a choice may be exercised to use nothing, or a shroud, the person's own clothes, or some other alternative, such as basket from willow or sustainable ossier beds, cardboard or carpet.
My only real concern is how to keep a precise plan of the site, noting the exact position of each grave. There will have to be some fixed points of some sort, from which to take measurements, without them being a visual intrusion.
J. B. Bradfield, 7 Knox Road, Harrogate, N. Yorks HG1 3EF. There is a similar scheme entitled 'Ecchoing Green' being promoted by Jeremy Ripton, 20 Bedford Court, Oakwood Lane, Roundhay, Leeds LS8 2PL (tel 0532 350056).
It was a double-pretty day, like winter holding its breath, giving us a break. About 300 people stood around and sang from the little hymnbooks that Diane Kesey had Xeroxed - 'Everlasting Arms', 'Sweet Hour of Prayer', 'In the Garden', and so forth. With all my cousins leading the singing and Dale on his fiddle. While we were singing 'Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain', Zane and Kit and the neighbour boys that have grown up with all of us carried the box to the hole. The preacher is also the Pleasant Hill School superintendent and has known our kids since kindergarten. I learned a lot about Jed that I'd either forgotten or never known - like his being a member of the National Honour Society and finishing sixth in a class of more than a hundred.
We sang some more. People filed by and dropped stuff in on Jed. I put in that silver whistle I used to wear with the Hopi cross soldered on it. One of our frat brothers put in a quartz watch guaranteed to keep beeping every 15 minutes for five years. Faye put in a snapshot of her and I standing with a pitchfork all Grantwoodesque in front of the old bus. Paul Foster put in the little leatherbound New Testament given him by his father who had carried it during his 65 years as a minister. Paul Sawyer read from 'Leaves of Grass' while the boys each hammered in the one nail they had remembered to put in their pockets. The Betas formed a circle and passed the loving cup around (a ritual our fraternity generally uses when a member is leaving the circle to become engaged) (Jed and Zane and I are all members, y'unnerstand, not to mention Hagen) and the boys lowered the box with these ropes George had cut and braided. Zane and I tossed in the first shovelfuls. It sounded like the first thunderclaps of 'Revelations'.
The following is adapted from a postscript by George Walker about the making of Jed's coffin:
We selected some clear white boards for the sides and top. Nice looking and easy to work with, pine is also traditional.
It was a very good coffin, as coffins go, very beautiful everybody said, and certainly a labour of love. But I don't really believe that is the point. The real value of that coffin was in the doing, in the building of it ourselves. Not in the coffin, as a thing, but in the act of creating it, as an event. It made us all feel better to do this ourselves, to take charge of things as much as we could, not just the coffin but the burial as well. Perhaps it's because, when we lose someone close, particularly someone young and in the prime of life, we feel more than a little burned that things have been jerked so irrevocably beyond our control. Anything we can do to regain our handle on events is gratifying.
Whatever the reason, all who kept themselves actively involved in getting Jed buried agreed: we all gained something through our efforts. We felt better about it than if we had just turned it all over to the professionals, and gone about our business of feeling bad. So, I would say to anybody who feels that they might want to give it a try when someone close dies, absolutely yes; build it yourself. Even if you can't do basic carpentry, you can nail together a kit. If you do have skills, you can make something that will make you feel good long after it's buried out of sight. It doesn't have to be fancy; simple and neat is just fine, but do make it strong. You'll be surprised by the weight.
From an article in CoEvolution Quarterly (Summer '84; now called Whole Earth Review, 27 Gate Five Road, Sausalito, CA 94965, USA; subs. $32).
If expense is the main consideration, it is worth noting that making a coffin yourself will probably work out almost as expensive just for materials as the cheapest coffin available from a funeral director (see the next chapter - the cheapest is probably that supplied by James Gibson in Bolton - about £45, including handles and lining, delivery negotiable).
Nevertheless the Huelins, a couple in Oxford, gained a great deal of satisfaction from making their own coffins recently and found themselves quite a centre of media attention as a result. Barbara Huelin outlines the story:
My husband, aged 77, has recently finished building our coffins. We have spent a most enlightening few months organising and preparing for our deaths; the idea has caught on amongst our friends in Oxford.
The coffins are made in blockboard at a cost of about £50 each (not including our time). They are painted green and have nautical-looking rope handles (from the boat chandlers). The coffins are stored in the workroom. We have bought a double-decker site in the local Council cemetery for £150 to which we intend that family and friends shall physically bear us. We are leaving the commemorative gravestone for our survivors to add if they wish, so that they have something they can do.
There were a number of interested enquiries from members of the public so her husband David sent the Natural Death Centre the following detailed description and drawings of the design that he used:
Materials: The most convenient, though possibly not the cheapest, material is three quarter inch (18mm) blockboard; it is lighter and stronger than chipboard, and is much easier to work. It is normally sold in sheets measuring 8ft x 4ft (2.44m x 1.22m); each sheet costs about £30 (March 1992). The half inch (12mm) version is cheaper but seems rather flimsy for a coffin, and the one inch (25mm) appears unnecessarily heavy, and costs more.
Three sheets of 8ft x 4ft blockboard are enough for two coffins, with a little fiddling. It is possible, though more difficult, to make one coffin with a sheet and a half, though it is not always possible to buy half-sheets. The following suggestions are for making two coffins with three sheets of board.
Other Materials (for two coffins):
36ft (11m) wood strip 35mm x 10mm (rim round lid)
(42ft (12.8m) batten 25mm x 25mm; this is not needed if the joining is by dovetailing - see below)
400 (2 boxes) steel wood-screws, gauge 8 x one and a quarter inch
100 panel pins three quarter inch
250ml (quarter litre) wood-working glue, e.g. Evo-Stik Wood Adhesive
Handles: special subject dealt with separately below.
Tools: hand-held electric circular saw is invaluable for cutting the basic shapes in the blockboard, which by hand would be arduous work. If dovetailing is intended a coping saw is useful; beyond that, a tenon-saw, chisel, angle-gauge, and sanding equipment for finishing off.
Method: Take the measurements of the future occupant of each coffin, not forgetting the hip width; allow extra space for the possibility of putting on weight before the coffin is needed.
With these measurements the main components for the two coffins can be drawn out on the blockboard: floor and lid, sides and ends (see the illustrations). Since the basic measurements are internal, allowance must be made for the thickness of the wood when drawing the basic shapes.
It is advisable to defer cutting out the lids until the main boxes are built (see below).
Joining: Attaching the sides and ends to the floor of the coffin, and to each other, can be done in several ways; the simplest would seem to be one of the following:
1. With internal battens or corner-blocks, using the 25mm x 25mm batten listed above. With plenty of glue and screws this can be quite satisfactory; the batten joining the sides and ends to the floor of the box can be fixed below the floor for extra strength. As the four corners are not right angles, the internal block or batten will have to be shaped to the actual angle.
2. With dovetailing (so called, though it is not true dovetailing); that is by cutting alternating tongues and recesses all along the edges to be joined, so that they fit together. Each tongue and recess can be 3 or 4 inches long; once the whole thing fits snugly together, the joins can be glued and screwed with a one and a quarter inch screw through every tongue. The recesses need to be a whisker over three quarters of an inch (19mm) deep to match the thickness of the board.
This system involves more work and precision than the batten method, but the result is neat and very strong.
Shaped sides: To achieve the bends in the sides of the coffins, the inner surface of the board should have five or six saw-cuts made across it, to a depth of about three quarters of its thickness; it will then bend to the shape of the floor. The saw-cuts can be filled with glue to add to their solidity, but this is not essential. If the batten method is used, the batten itself can be treated in the same way.
(In this particular lay-out for three sheets of board it has been necessary to divide the sides of coffin 'A' into two sections; they can be joined together by dovetailing at the appropriate angle. With four boards this dividing would not be necessary.)
Lid: TThe precise shaping of the lid of each coffin can be left until the main body of the box is complete; this can be placed inverted over the piece of board reserved for the lid, and its outline drawn straight onto the wood. The lid should have a rim or lip all round its edge, made from the 35mm x 10mm strip listed above; this can be fixed with glue and panel pins.
Once it fits nicely, the lid can be drilled for screws, about 8 inches apart, using gauge 8, length one and a quarter inch screws, and pilot holes can be drilled in the main box. The thoughtful coffin builder will provide a bag of screws for the purpose, and possibly a screwdriver too.
Head-rest: dead person's head falls back unbecomingly unless it is supported. The coffins should therefore have a small platform across the head end, slightly sloping, some two to three inches from the floor of the box.
Packing: Though not strictly part of the construction, there is the question of packing or lining. A very economical, attractive, and adequately absorbent packing is wood-shavings. If shavings of nice-smelling woods, such as cedar or pitch pine, can be obtained, so much the better. One dustbin-liner-full is probably enough.
Paint: Blockboard is not a very interesting colour; a litre of matt emulsion paint will make the two coffins look much more interesting; they can also be embellished with paintings of flowers, or boats, or castles, to taste.
Handles: The importance of handles depends on how the coffins are to be carried: if at shoulder height by skilled men, then no handles are required at all (professional bearers never use them). If the intention is that a coffin should be carried by family and friends, with their hands, then the handles are necessary and should be functional.
Metal or tough plastic handles, such as are used on swing and sliding doors, are inexpensive, but great care is needed in fixing them. It may be advisable to use one and a half inch screws going through the comparatively soft block-board into a hardwood block inside. Note that if cremation is chosen, then no large metal parts such as handles should be employed.
Another method is with nylon rope of half inch diameter. Half inch holes, some five inches apart, in three pairs, to be drilled in the sides of the coffin; the rope (must be nylon) is cut into lengths of 12 or 13 inches (30 to 33cm) and the ends are threaded into the holes from the outside, so that at least one inch projects on the inside of the box. Next a metal washer with exactly a half inch hole is fitted over the projecting end of rope, which is then melted with a hot-air gun so that it flattens down and spreads over the metal washer; when it cools and hardens it is very firm.
This method is easier than it may seem; it is extremely strong, and the rope loops on the outside of the coffin look attractive and appropriately modest.
Materials: metres (2m each coffin) half-inch nylon rope obtainable at boat chandlers' shops. 24 half-inch washers.
Barbara and David Huelin, 69 Kingston Road, Oxford OX2 6RJ.
Ernest Morgan in his excellent book about funerals in the United States, 'Dealing Creatively with Death - A Manual of Death Education and Simple Burial', describes the making of a simple burial box, which has top and sides of quarter inch plywood, and the bottom and ends of three quarter inch plywood. Two reinforcing battens, three quarter inch thick, run the length of the box on the inside, attached to the side pieces (at the top edge, so the top of the box rests on them - as in this illustration). Ernest Morgan writes:
Using nails or screws [eds: the latter, say gauge 8, length one and quarter inch, would give extra strength, particularly for the ends. Wood glue, such as Evo-Stik Wood Adhesive, would also give additional strength]:
Attach the reinforcing battens to the side pieces, flush with the edge and the end, making sure to have the good side of the plywood facing outwards;
Attach the side pieces to the bottom.
Attach the ends, again with the good sides out, to the bottom and to the side strips.
Four chest handles, two screwed to each end, could be useful for ease of carrying when going through doors [eds: or rope handles could be used, as in the Huelin coffins, above]. The handles could be stored in the box and screwed on when needed. Likewise, the cover could be tacked lightly in place until the box is needed, and then when the time comes fixed firmly down.
For those who would like something finer, and who have the skills, a coffin made of birch planks dovetailed together could look good, with the name carved into the wood and patterns around the edges as desired, and a final polish with beeswax or linseed oil.
A carpenter has written to The Natural Death Centre with ideas for coffin-making workshops, mail boxes in the side of coffins and re-usable coffins:
I run courses in creative woodwork and have long-term plans for running workshops where people could design and make their own coffin. With professional guidance people could design and build a coffin in exact accordance with their wishes. Family members and close friends could be invited to contribute, thus enhancing the quality of the process.
This could also be a family project. Each family member could participate in designing and building a family coffin that could be re-used as the need dictated. When it was not being used as a coffin, it could have a functional use, perhaps as a coffee table or even as a plant trough.
There could be a cheap, sealed inner box within the outer shell of the coffin that could be disposable. This would mean that the body does not have to be wrapped up or disturbed. And why the regular shape? Why not pyramid shape or even dolphin shape!
Another of my ideas is to provide some form of mail box either in the coffin or as a small container that could be buried or cremated with the body. The plan would be for there to be a period of silence during the funeral service when those attending the service could write out their final farewell message to the deceased which would then be posted in the box. This could add a valuable dimension to the grieving process.
A spokesman for the National Association of Funeral Directors has been concerned at the prospect of re-using coffins, of hauling bodies in and out of coffins. In answer to this I suggest a false and disposable bottom to the coffin that would allow the main shell to be removed with the body being left respectfully at peace. Maintaining dignity is very important and I feel that there are many ways in which this can be honoured.
From a letter to The Natural Death Centre.
If the coffin is destined for cremation rather than burial, there are various requirements for avoiding air pollution. The best approach is to check with your intended crematorium as to whether first, they would accept a home-made coffin (see next chapter); second, what the maximum size of the coffin may be - one crematorium in the United States has said that home-made coffins tend to be made larger than they need be (Lisa Carlson in 'Caring for your own Dead' writes that 'two feet wide and 18 inches deep is sufficient for most bodies'); third, whether the particular construction you are planning needs modifying in any way; fourth, whether any lining or handles you are planning for the coffin or clothing for the body are unacceptable (for instance, PVC linings and rubber soled shoes are discouraged); and fifth, whether any medical implants in the body will be problematic. A pacemaker would probably need to be removed, for instance, in case it explodes during cremation. A doctor or funeral director can do this, although, writes Lisa Carlson, 'anyone can do it. A pacemaker is about the size of a small coin, embedded just under the skin, usually near the neck or lower on the rib cage. It is attached to wires which should be snipped.' Some crematoria may also not want to burn a body with silicone implants - in Southern California the silicone turned into a sticky goo on the floor of the cremator, although a UK crematorium had no difficulties in a test it ran.
Instructions for funeral directors have been issued by the cremation authorities, many of which would apply to those running a funeral themselves. P. J. Wilson, the secretary of the Federation of British Cremation Authorities, writes to the Natural Death Centre that 'Crematoria invariably require that bodies are conveyed to the building in a reasonable manner. A rigid coffin able to withstand any handling or transportation problems, adequately secured and identified and suitably lined to prevent leakage of fluids or other material will be required.'
Coffin construction: The coffin must be made of wood or a wood by-product which, when placed in a cremator and subjected to the accepted cremation processes, is easily combustible and which does not emit smoke, give off toxic gas or leave any retardant smears or drips after final combustion. No metal furniture or fittings whatever shall be used on a coffin for cremation. No metal of any kind shall be used in the manufacture of such a coffin except as necessary for its safe construction and then only metal of a high ferrous content [eds: eg use ferrous screws]. Cross pieces must not be attached to the bottom of the coffin. If it is desired to strengthen the bottom of the coffin, wooden strips may be placed lengthwise for this purpose. The coffin must not be painted or varnished but may be covered with a suitable cloth. Products manufactured in polyvinyl chloride (PVC) must not be used in the construction of the coffin or its furnishings. The use of polystyrene must be restricted to the coffin nameplate only, in which case it must not exceed 90 grams in weight.
No coffin shall be accepted unless it bears adequate particulars of the identity of the deceased person therein [eds: normally this would include the name, age and date of death of the person].
Lining of the coffin: The use of sawdust or cotton-wool must be avoided. If circumstances require, suitable sealing material may be used, but no metal, rubber or polyvinyl chloride (PVC) will be permitted and on no account must pitch or a similar substance be used. [Eds: no lead-lined coffins would be permitted.]
Size of the coffin: Where the external dimensions of a coffin are likely to exceed length 81 inches (206 cm); width 28 inches (71 cm); depth 22 inches (56 cm) the proper officer of the crematorium must be given advance notice.
Cremation of infants: In cases when bereaved parents desire the cremation of the body of an infant, they should be warned that there are occasions when no tangible remains are left after the cremation process has been completed. This is due to the cartilaginous nature of the bone structure.
If the warning is not given the parents may have been denied the choice of earth burial and thereby been subjected to understandable distress.
Cremated remains: An urn or casket for cremated remains should be of sufficient internal dimension to provide a minimum of 200 cubic inches (3,280 cubic cm) and securely labelled. The container should be strong enough to resist breakage in transit. The lid must fit tightly and the fastening should be strong enough to prevent the lid being forced open by distortion of the container through maltreatment in transit.
Adapted from a text sent by the Federation of British Cremation Authorities.
Deidre Martin has sent the Natural Death Centre an encouraging description of the funeral of her mother, Dorothy, which they organised themselves and for which they made the coffin. The description, adapted extracts from which appear below, ties together many of the elements previously discussed in this chapter. Deirdre Martin is prepared to give advice to any others in the Brighton area trying to plan a similar funeral themselves (as is the similarly experienced Sheila Barratt in Woking - make contact through the Natural Death Centre).
My mother had always said she wished to be buried 'simply', and we had already told the hospital matron that we would like to make the arrangements ourselves. She was extremely sympathetic and very helpful. She made an appointment for my husband and me to see the hospital registration officer that afternoon, and told us the hospital would be able to keep my mother's body until we had made adequate arrangements. She also advised us to speak to the crematorium, and to ask them for advice.
At 12.30 pm that day we visited Brighton's Woodvale Crematorium. The staff were marvellous. We asked if we could make the coffin, and deal with all the funeral arrangements ourselves. 'Certainly.' They provided us with a leaflet 'Information and specifications for an interment or cremation arranged without the guidance of a funeral director'. [Eds: this present chapter covers everything in the leaflet that is of more than local significance.] They told us how to make the arrangements, but my main worry was what to do with Grandma. They said she can be kept as long as convenient in the borough mortuary for up to three weeks at no charge - after that a small sum would be necessary. I feel this is always a problem with death - everyone seems to want to dispose of the person too soon! The fact that we had time to think, and time to make arrangements was the first step.The staff said they would help with carrying Grandma into the chapel. We went to look at the chapel to see how high the platform was for the body to be placed on. They told us to telephone and come at any time if we wanted more help or information. At 3 pm that afternoon we were with the hospital registrar. She was delighted someone wished to arrange their own funeral - the ward sister had arranged for my mother to be taken to the hospital mortuary, and the registrar spoke to the mortician on our behalf. He was happy to keep my mother until the day of the funeral - no problem - no charge. He gave us the dimensions of the coffin. Width and length: 5ft 9" by 18" wide. All we had to do was to let him know the time for collection and they would help us lift her in and to seal the lid. So my mother's last resting place was the hospital mortuary until March 3rd.
This gave us time to make the coffin and sort ourselves out. I telephoned the Natural Death Centre for some information, which came very promptly, and for which I am grateful. Also I wrote to the British Humanist Association who sent me a booklet 'Funerals without God'. It was very reassuring getting information from various sources, showing us that we could do this ourselves and that it would be very personal and that our mother's passing had not been taken away from us and dealt with by strangers. She had very rarely attended a church and we had been to a number of funerals - in 1989 twelve members of our family and friends had died - and none of the funerals seemed to have been satisfactory for the bereaved. Something appeared to be missing.
The coffin was made in our garage in a day. My husband enlisted the help of George Haines, a friend who is in his seventies, who said he always wanted to make his own coffin, so was delighted to have the chance to practise. Much tea and merriment went into the work, and chipboard and timber arrived from the local yard. Most of the neighbours and friends came to have a look and to try it out.
Really it was the fun bits that started to emerge, such as finding music that my mother liked. On a check-up trip to the crematorium to speak to them about the tapes and how to set them up, they told me they had loads of tapes available.They set all the taping up for us, again giving us every assistance. They also suggested that the funeral should be the last one of the day, to be able to give us assistance and extra time in case we had any hiccups.
The registrar was fascinated; she advised me to take several copies of the death certificate at £2 each as she pointed out that any further copies would cost £5-50 each. That was wise advice as my brothers and the solicitor and crematorium all wanted copies. We dealt with all the paper work which had come from the mortuary, hospital, etc, and that is usually handled by the Funeral Directors - it was simple. We needed burial certificates, doctors' certificates and one or two other certificates mentioned in the interment leaflet from Woodvale, and again we were assisted by everybody.
I tried to involve the family as much as possible. My eldest daughter made a lovely cake for the funeral tea, and also put together a wonderful photographic display, with photos of my mother's life, and the paintings she did in her later years. My brother's estate wagon was measured for the coffin - it would fit in OK. As a precautionary measure, we also hired an estate car for £42 in case of emergencies. Fortunately it was not required to carry the coffin, but it could have been used if necessary. The rest of the family prepared readings from my mother's favourite books and we prepared a programme containing readings, remembrances and music. We timed this for approximately 30 minutes. It was enough. We requested no flowers, but did in fact have a lovely display of everlasting flowers made by my sister-in-law, in a basket, which was placed on the coffin with an Indian rug from my brother, and this looked really great.
So at 4 pm on March 3rd we were ready to conduct the service. What went wrong? Not a lot - one late-arriving relative wanted to view her grandmother and we did not think to let the mortician know in advance of collecting the body. The body was not prepared and obviously did not look its best for the occasion and there was an upsetting reaction. My husband, the friend who made the coffin, George, my brother from Kent, and his two children (a son and daughter) and another grandson from Wales, all went to fetch the body. Lesson number one - double check who knows who is coming, when and where. At the crematorium it was difficult getting the coffin out of the car - nobody realised quite how heavy it would be. One granddaughter wished to help carry the coffin, which was great, but this needed a rehearsal. The crematorium staff helped and it was OK. We made a mess-up of getting everyone into the chapel, and in the end they went in after the coffin was placed on the rostrum. The staff worked the tape recorder and I compered the show. My husband videoed the event and Mother would have been very, very pleased, because basically it went off OK. And it did - it dealt with a lot of emotions, and people were able to work on their own grief; mainly, I felt, because they had helped to get the show on the road.
We collected the ashes the next day from the crematorium, free of charge. We later gave the mortician a bottle of wine and the crematorium staff a Christmas box, saw to the nurses and staff at the hospital for their Christmas fare and hoped we had not forgotten anyone.
A hundred days after her death we held a Celebration for her death and life at the Chithurst Monastery, where a Dhana was given to the monks, and family and friends came once again to join with us in the memorial.
All this activity has helped me to deal with my grief and my feelings of guilt and resentment at having to look after quite a difficult lady. I feel I was also able to deal with my father's death - he died in 1961 at the age of 54 and the funeral was too quickly dealt with, with little time to realise how we all felt at that time. So I was able to lay to rest some unresolved grief over his loss.
Many people have spoken to us regarding making their own coffins and are surprised at how little we spent. For the record the absolutely necessary expenses were:
Fee for the crematorium £105; fees for the doctors £57; death certificates £8; purchase of chipboard and timber £30. Total: £200.
In fact we spent a further £42 on the reserve car, for a grand total of £242. Several people asked, did we do this because we couldn't afford it? The answer to this is, No. I felt doing this ourselves was very rewarding, it helped to deal with our grief and the resentments that we had, and which had built up through the years as a result of some of the difficulties of looking after my mother during her lifetime. The main thought seemed to be that it was just as she would have wanted and this came over very strongly from all who helped and were present.
Deirdre's husband adds this note about the coffin:
We used ferrous screws throughout because after the cremation they were removed from the ashes with a magnet. In the foot end we fixed a small rope handle to use in pulling the coffin out of the car. It was not necessary to fit any other handles.
The mortician said that the coffin was one of the best he had seen.
Poole, Dorset: . H. Bushell, tel 0202 677539; fax 0202 678598 (his site is the Needles Spoil Ground, shown on Admiralty Chart No 2045, 'Outer Approaches to the Solent').
South Western: . George, tel Plymouth 0752 228001/2 (in May '94 he had no sites, as a body had been washed up and he was no longer giving permission for the usual places. When this site is available again, pricey burials at sea there are offered by the Britannia Shipping Company, Britannia House, High Street, Newton Poppleford, Sidmouth, Devon EX10 OEF, tel 0395 68652, from about £2,680, which includes collection from most places in the country; the trip out at sea takes about two hours; they tend to go out some four miles from Plymouth).
The fisheries inspectors may also be able to advise on finding a suitable boat.
You should tell the registrar when registering the death that you plan a sea burial and you can then obtain from the registrar a 'Coroners Out of England Form' (Form 104) - and the local coroner's address to which this should be sent.
The Poole Fisheries Officer, Mr Bushell, has dealt with families making their own arrangements, without using funeral directors, and seems very helpful. Requirements vary slightly between regions, but his requirements are as follows:
The coffin should not be made of any persistent synthetic material, nor of a species of timber, such as oak, which would endure in the marine environment. It may not include any lead, zinc or copper. (He recommends a softwood such as pine, with the coffin as strong as possible, reinforced on the bottom corners, and large enough to fit extra weighting. Even the screws must not be zinc.)
The wooden coffin should be weighted with at least 3cwt of iron, steel or concrete. (He recommends chain or pig iron, and that the weights be put inside the coffin.)
Holes of at least three quarter inch diameter are to be drilled to allow rapid ingress of water and escape of air, so that the coffin may reach the seabed quickly and stay there. (He recommends two dozen holes on the side and lid.)
The body should also be weighted. (He recommends that the body should have chain wrapped round it, about 10 per cent more than body weight, say about 20 kilos.)
The coffin should effectively retain the body on the seabed without unduly preserving it.
The body may not be embalmed. (He recommends that no canvas shroud is used. The body may be dressed, and wrapped in a sheet.)
A certificate of Freedom from Fever and Infection should have been obtained (from the GP or hospital doctor).
The body shall have a plastic tag around the ankle with a permanent inscription showing the deceased's name and date of burial. Discuss with Mr Bushell whether this also needs a telephone number.
The MAFF has new conditions under discussion at present .The MAFF reserve the right to inspect the coffin prior to the burial. Normally, the local MAFF office must be informed on the day prior to the date of burial and immediately after. An at-least-verbal amendment to the licence is needed if adverse weather or other circumstances delay the burial beyond the week of the licence.
The vessel normally used for the Needles Spoil Ground is hired from the Hurst Castle Ferries of Lymington (tel Sean Crain, 0425 610784). Funeral directors who have organised sea burials there include: J. Bevis & Son in Southampton (tel Mrs M. Bailey, 0703 772120); Davies Funeral Services of Milford-on-Sea (tel G. R. Davies on 0590 644664); Bennett in Essex (tel Jane Arnold 0277 210104); the Co-op in Weymouth (tel Allan Quatermain, 0305 772789); A. H. Roger (tel 0703 612435).
Reminders: Having some reminder of the person on top of the coffin during the service - such as a favourite hat or scarf.
Fires, candles, lanterns: John Fox of Welfare State International ('the celebratory arts company' - see the Resources chapter under Organisations) suggests a funeral or memorial service outdoors, the space framed with poles, bunting and music, tables decorated with cloth, flowers and papercuts, and the use of fires, candles and lanterns. His book 'Engineers of the Imagination' (Methuen 1990) describes, inter alia, how to make the lanterns.
One flower each: You could ask friends not to buy flowers but to bring one flower each, preferably from their garden, and to place it on the coffin. Here is Allegra Taylor's description of everyone bringing one daffodil each to the funeral of Claire, an eight year old girl who died of leukaemia:
The minister - a friend of the family - held the little coffin in his arms as he spoke of Claire's courage and of the lightness and joy she'd bought into the world during her short life. The grave was lined with moss and leaves like a nest for a baby bird. We stood with our arms around each other as we threw in an avalanche of daffodils and sang 'The Lord of the Dance' together: 'Dance, dance, wherever you may be ...' It was the most beautiful funeral I had ever been to and an inspiring example of how it can be. We have begun to reclaim birth and death from the medical profession after generations of abdication - begun to reinstate choice and personal responsibility. Let's do the same with funerals.
From 'Acquainted with the Night' by Allegra Taylor.
Home funerals: You could get the priest to conduct the funeral or memorial service in your home or out in the garden. Anglican priests are not officially allowed to conduct a funeral service at home but others, such as Unitarian ministers, are willing to do this. In fact most Unitarian ministers are willing to officiate at very personalised or even humanist (that is, atheist or agnostic) funerals. (See Organisations in the Resources chapter).
Christianne Heal described in a newspaper interview the funeral she arranged for her mother, outside a church setting:
The funeral parlour at the chapel of rest seemed to be the best available option, and Heal and her family booked that for the service. 'It wasn't a place where funerals were held very often, but in the end it worked very well.We found a priest who was willing to come along and say mass but who understood it was for us and that we wanted to be in charge of what happened.'
The most imaginative aspect of the funeral though, took place at the graveside, when Heal and her family released helium-filled white balloons into the sky. 'I bought them the day before from a party shop. Letting them go represented her spirit moving off, and it was a very significant part of the ceremony for me.'
An unidentified newspaper cutting in The Natural Death Centre library records a very exuberant funeral:
The cortège was following the last instructions of Mrs Johanna Connors, who was buried at the end of the trip in New Ross, County Wexford.
Humanist funerals: For a fee of between £50 and £60, you can get a trained officiant from the British Humanist Association (see Resources chapter) to act as master or mistress of ceremonies for a humanist funeral. Or you or a friend or relative can do it. The Association puts out a very helpful pamphlet, entitled 'Funerals Without God', by Jane Wynne Willson on how to run such services, with sample texts and poetry (see Resources chapter). The pamphlet explains how a humanist service tends to divide into distinct parts. First there is about eight minutes' worth of entry music, which is played until people have settled down in their seats - if an organist is not being used, this music should be recorded on side A only of a tape marked clearly 'Entry Music' and should be presented to the crematorium preferably the day before. The service proper opens with thoughts on life and death; then a tribute to the dead person (perhaps by a relative); followed by the committal (where everyone stands, the officiant turns towards the coffin, 'commits the body to its natural end' and a button is pressed to close the curtains). Up to about 40 seconds of slow and solemn music is sometimes used for the committal, with the person operating the machine cued to switch it on the moment specific words are said (a second tape should be clearly marked 'Committal Music' with the tape in position to deliver music the moment the Play button is pressed); and the service ends with closing words, after which the officiant walks over to the main mourners and leads them out of the exit door; a tape (marked 'Exit Music') can be played for about five minutes from the moment the officiant steps down from the lectern. Be sure to ask the crematorium to play the music loudly, if this is what you want, or you may find it all very restrained.
Michael Rennie in Dundee used the 'Funerals Without God' book to help him design a secular funeral for his father:
During my father's funeral, after welcoming all present, I dealt with the need to come to terms with death and read some words from Pasternak about the essence of our existence on earth. After a poem by Swinburn about the peace to be found in death, we stood in silence for some moments - moments in which those who had religious faith were asked to pray. I then paid tribute to my father's memory, incorporating anecdotes giving an insight into his character and contribution to life. My daughter played on the violin tunes emphasising my father's links with the sea, with Scotland and with the Tyne, as his coffin was taken from the hall. Later I committed him to earth, and read a poem by C. Day Lewis, which was sufficiently broad in its humanity to resonate with any secular or religious beliefs.
From a letter to The Independent (Oct. 28th '91).
Longer services: It may be possible to book two or even three sessions at the crematorium, if the standard time is not enough, and if there are many people who wish to speak. See the next chapter for what this may, or may not, cost, depending on the crematorium.
Other cultures, other times: In the UK, two world wars made funerary pomp on the home front seem out of place and accentuated our Puritan heritage of simple funerals. Indeed in 1644 the Puritans directed that the dead were to be interred 'without any ceremony'. In 1648, when the body of King Charles I was brought to the Royal Chapel at Windsor, the governor of the castle refused to let Bishop Juxon read the funeral service from the Book of Common Prayer:
From 'The History of the Worthies of England' edited by J. Fuller, Publishers IGWL and WG, 1662, quoted in 'The English Way of Death' by Julian Litten.
There is a beauty of its own in the simplicity expected at a Quaker funeral today, where the disposal of the body is supposed to be done with no unnecessary expense and with no flowers. But the diversity of funeral practices in other cultures and religions around the world and the beauty or at least depth of some of their rituals can widen our vision of the potential of funerals to 'enchant' the participants, raising their consciousness above the mundane. The Ecuadorians, for instance, are buried with their eyes open so that they can see their way to heaven; the Yanonami Indians of the Amazon believe that it is barbaric that Westerners do not drink the ashes of their relatives; the Merina hold periodic 'dances with the dead' where the women dance with the dried-out remains of their next of kin; rural Greeks tend the graves daily for five years before the corpse is disinterred and placed in a communal ossuary, with clean bones being seen as a reflection of a good life; and for traditional Hindus even the grandchildren are closely involved:
After death, the relatives place a simple cloth on the person. Each of the relatives comes and applies sesame oil to the deceased's head. The body is bathed with the water from nine kumbhas, and is placed in the coffin. Each of the granchildren takes a small lighted stick and stands around the body and sings.
From 'Death and Dying - A Hindu Point of View', £1-50 from Himalayan Academy Publishers, Rakesh Mathur, 6 Carolyn House, 95 Larkhall Rise, London SW4 6HR.
There is a Pagan Hospice and Funeral Trust in the UK (see the Resources chapter). In the future it hopes to have a network of counsellors to aid dying pagans, to provide pagan funeral services and to purchase a hospice and burial grounds. At present it has a newsletter and leaflets and provides information on pagan approaches to death and dying, reincarnation and other subjects.
Pagans aim to design rituals that bring them very close to nature and the seasons. An eloquent description of a pagan death and memorial ceremony is that by Tony Kelly and his friends, concerning his wife Betty who died from cancer.
Betty was now lying in a green-covered bed in the sunshine at the window, the window open and the air full of warmth and birdsong, willow and birch branches in front of her and a great leafy birch bough at the foot of the bed and the littler branches by the open window. It looked like a woodland glade and she was pleased. Among all the greenery were two bunches of daffodils in big jars, and jars of dandelions and celandines and yellow polyanthus on the windowsill. And I put a few little branches of silver birch on the bed where she could take hold of them and handle them and feel them in the way she always liked to do ...
I was sitting at Betty's side, speaking to her softly as she dreamed, saying, 'The Goddess loves you,' and other things that I knew would make her happy, and I was holding her hands. Betty stopped breathing ...
We stripped all the alien words and the glitter off the coffin; the wood was beautiful. We laid Betty naked inside it and dressed her with daffodils, tastefully, beautifully, in her hair and about her body, some of them fresh and a few to speak her fading ...
The cremation was without ceremony and we brought her ashes home and kept them with us in the box I made, its lid scalloped like the waves of the sea, till the Hag Moon of Samhain called us to a distant shore ...
The ceremony for the scattering of the ashes took place seven months later, at a remote spot by the sea:
The Sea-lady came over the grass to where I was standing and she raised the lid of the box, and the ashes, speckled black and grey, lay open to the wide open sky. As I held the box to my breast and she took the lid into her own two hands I spoke the message that for seven moons my heart had borne:
Each spoke their own devotion and to each the priestess responded with the same words that had been Betty's own spontaneous response when their phone calls had been conveyed to her, and they sang a six-verse song they had composed for the occasion:
We joined our hands in a ring, all nine of us, and a kiss from the Green Lady passed from lip to hand all around the ring. 'With thee for always, Mabh,' I spoke as the love of the Goddess moved me. At last we loosed our hands.
For a copy of the full 16 page text send £1 incl. postage to Tony Kelly, Can y Lloer, Ffarmers, Llanwrda, Dyfed.
Holding a memorial service at some time, perhaps months after the death and immediate obsequies, may be a way of bringing out the essential cheerfulness and spirit of life with which most of us would like to be remembered. We want to be celebrated as well as mourned. Here is such a celebration, designed by Margaret Chisman for her husband Stan. There is some human instinct that makes us want to be present at such a celebration of people who were our friends. It is rather like giving wedding gifts. We want to give the gifts, be part of the celebration. Why should we deprive ourselves of being part of such a ceremony, the feasting of a life?
The first thing that everyone noticed about him was his outstanding physical vigour. By contrast many people seemed only half alive. He was fully and gloriously alive in every fibre of his being. He loved rambling - I held up his walking boots - and whenever he decided to go on a walk he began to get excited and I would know to get his boots out. He loved skiing - I showed his goggles - and sadly had a holiday fixed for January by which time he was too ill. There were several photos amongst those displayed of him enjoying this sport. When living in Ipswich he played in the Post Office Table Tennis Team, and they won the cup one year and each player received a small trophy, here displayed. He also played five-a-side football and his old football boots were still in the cupboard upstairs. He took up sailboarding within the last two years and there were several photos of him displayed. These were taken on our holiday in the South of France. I regret I have no photos of him hang-gliding (whoever heard of a man of 62 taking up hang-gliding?), but George, who also introduced him to this sport describes the last occasion; Stan had become airborne to a height of 50 ft and was looking decidedly unhappy but absolutely determined to go through with it.
John White, who could not be present today said that for him he would always remember Stan for playing the glorious voice of Paul Robeson singing 'I thought I saw Joe Hill last night.' We played this record, and as I heard that vibrant voice singing the words of optimism in the face of death I felt once more overcome with grief and loss and wondered whether, despite all my supportive and loving relations and friends, all my active outside interests, my comfortable and satisfying home, I would manage to achieve serenity and full acceptance of his death.
The next part was pure joy. Nearly everyone had an anecdote or memory to share. Some of them were new to me, and I felt as if Stan came alive again for a few minutes.
Alan Mayne commented in the Visitors Book: 'I knew that Stan was a man of many parts but I didn't know how many.'
I asked everyone to end as Stan would have wished - to hug and kiss their neighbours.
From Interim', a private newsletter circulated by Margaret Chisman.
Incidentally, Ernest Morgan warns that those who speak up at memorial services should not allow themselves to be cut short by whoever is conducting the service. 'I have known family members who carried regrets for years that they were cut off from speaking because the service was running too long.'
Memorials by Artists puts bereaved families in touch with artists, for the designing of headstones and other memorials in a style requested by the individual. Themes have included homely domestic items, animals and birds, a typewriter and other symbols suggested by the commissioning person or devised by the artist, as well as epitaphs. The movement was founded by Harriet Frazer.
The demands for real memorials have proved so great that she has had to employ an assistant. 'The work can sometimes be very sad. Actually, really sad,' she said. 'But what is wonderful is that it is so much to do with life. The artists are so creative, making beautiful things, and celebrating a person is a very hopeful thing to do.'
From an article by Mary Greene in The Sunday Telegraph (April 28th 1991).
Prices of headstones average from £1,000, including the Memorials by Artists fee. An illustrated booklet is available from Memorials by Artists (see the Resources chapter) for £5, including postage and packing.
Elizabeth Lawlor, who used Memorials by Artists for her husband's headstone, commends them to The Natural Death Centre:
The headstone is up. I wanted a wave on top for symbolic reasons - waves of consciousness, waves being reabsorbed into the ocean, etc - and for my husband's naval and sea-loving connection. The help I received from Memorials by Artists was wonderful.
A memorial of course need not be a gravestone: you may want to plant a tree in memory of the person; or to pay for a glass window in church; or to pay for a park bench; or to have a sponsored walk or children sponsored to learn poetry for a recital in aid of the person's favourite charity. A lively memorial recently consisted of mixing the deceased's ashes with gunpowder, and launching them into the night sky as a series of giant firework rockets.
It may have been mainly a publicity gimmick, but a pub in Hereford (The Packhorse, tel 0299 403 762) announced the genial offer for regular customers of placing their ashes behind tiles in the pub, with a wake in their honour when they die and free drinks all round once a year thereafter - for a price ranging from £50 for a tile in the toilets, to £5,000 for a tile close to the fire. The money was to have been lodged with a local solicitor.
John Fox of Welfare State International suggests redecorating the normal small wooden caskets used for ashes: remove the paint with varnish stripper, undercoat with filler and two coats of white wood primer; then paint imagery or words - he uses fluorescent enamel varnish (Brodie and Middleton); re-varnish, allowing 24 hours for the drying. He adds this story:
I commissioned a pottery urn from a friend who specialised in throwing decorative slipware. It was for the ceremony to scatter my father's ashes in the Humber Estuary, where he had earned his living as a sea captain.
We ended up with a dome-shaped circular lidded pot about a foot high and a foot diameter at the base. A little like a tiny bee hive.
The lid had to be surprisingly wide too - about six inches, for the ashes to scatter easily downwind.
In white slip on the dark brown of the pot's surface, we inscribed:
'The last voyage of Captain Fox, MBE. May his spirit be at peace with the sea.'
At the ceremony myself, my wife and our two children then ten and eight played 'Eternal Father' on brass instruments. (My father was a Christian.)
It was memorable and healing for us all.
Welfare State International (artistic director John Fox - see the Resources chapter) offers a consultancy service for those wanting a very special memorial service.
Incidentally, Yvonne Malik (see the Resources chapter), an artist and a consultant to the Natural Death Centre, would like further commissions to decorate coffins for anyone who wishes it. She also makes beautiful glass-engraved death meditations with collage backings which could make a memorial or be for contemplation during life. And see also (at the end of the Practical Help for the Dying chapter) her work on Memory Boxes for the dying.
You will need forms for a personal application for a grant of probate from your local Probate Personal Application Department - if you were not given this address in a booklet at the time you registered the death, you can find it out from the Probate Registry (see the Resources chapter). You can get Form PA2 from the local office which tells you how to do things without a solicitor and the Citizens Advice Bureau may be able to help further. Once you have filled in and returned these forms, you will be given an appointment to go to your local office in person to swear that the information is true. At this point you will need to pay the probate fee (if the estate was worth £250,000 net, for example, the fee would be about £600); and a couple of weeks later you will need to pay any inheritance tax owing (although inheritance tax on land or buildings can be paid over a ten year period at - currently - eight per cent interest).
If the deceased's funds were in a bank these will be frozen until after probate is granted (you could try asking the bank to put any current account amount on deposit, so that at least it earns interest; the bank also has discretion to let the executors continue operating the account, if idemnified by the executors against loss). Because the account is frozen, the executors may have to get an expensive overdraft from the same bank to pay the inheritance tax (although a helpful bank may be willing to set any assets in the deceased's accounts against the required overdraft - and a prudent person might enquire of their bank before death whether they are helpful in this regard). It would have saved money if the dying person were to have transferred sufficient money to National Savings (see chapter five for the other advantages) as these, plus some of the bigger building societies, are the only ones who will pay inheritance tax directly out of the deceased's assets and in advance of probate.
The executors will also need to deal with the Land Registry to transfer any property (form 56 from an Oyez shop) and with the Income Tax people - their forms Cap 30 (to show that any inheritance tax has been paid), form 59 (an income tax return for the year in which the person died) and form R185E (income tax deduction certificates).
Valuing stocks and shares with the exactitude required for probate purposes, filling in the probate schedule of them and handling their transfer or sale are small bureaucratic nightmares. To repeat chapter four: any dying person who has accumulated the odd lot of shares in privatised Telecom, etc, would save their executors a great deal of trouble by selling them before death.
Executors will also need to deal with the deceased's mortgage company, house insurance company, district valuer, bank, building society, life insurance company, pension company, state benefits office and local post office (for forwarding of mail) - plus in some cases advertising in the newspapers for any unknown creditors.
Anyone appointed as an executor who, understandably, cannot face the work involved, can fill in a renunciation form or a form appointing an attorney to do it (both forms are available from an Oyez shop); or you can hand over to a professional half way through.
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