Why Talking about Death Won’t Kill You
Why Talking about Death won’t kill you…
A bunch of strangers gather in a room of a sunny June Thursday evening, to discuss all things death. Tea/coffee/something stronger is poured, and plates of cakes are loaded up, and everyone surveys their surroundings with a mix of excitement and anxiety. A menu sits on the table, and some are anxiously studying it, wondering what happens next!
And so it begins. Yours truly, and co-facilitator and all round superstar Sarah open the evening. There’s some housekeeping on what a Death Café is and how it started (more in the links below), and the menu is presented. A starter/main/dessert question to help guide the conversation, and to help with the “first person on the dance floor” nerves.
The starter is simple - introduce yourself (if you so wish), say a little about what brought you here, and answer the question “Burial or Cremation”. Ok, that doesn’t seem so hard… I speak about myself and how I became a celebrant, and for me it’s cremation - or if there’s an Option C, then I’m considering donating my remains to medical research. Around in turn everyone speaks. We have all ages from 20-something to 70-something, and all walks of life. Many have fears of death going back to childhood, and some really have no clear thoughts on the subject as of yet. As each person speaks you can see the nodding of a shared experience, or the laughter of a funny story. It unites the group, this simple common theme, that affects us all.
We split everyone into smaller groups for the main course and dessert question, so as to make the conversations easier for everyone to contribute to. There is a lively debate happening at my first table with the question “How would you like to be remembered?”. Someone is telling a story about the items that are traditionally brought up at funeral masses, and how they represent people. “I don’t need anything else”, she says, “they already bring up bread and wine, and that’s just me!”. We start a conversation about legacy - about how no-one wants to be remembered for all the days in the office, but the impact they left on their loved ones and on the world around them. It’s a subject you could talk about for hours, but in no time, we’re moving on to the last question of the evening, and I’m switching tables. The dessert question is, “if you had 24 hours to live, how would you spend it?”. We’ve already decided at our table that arrangements are already in place, and all our goodbyes are said, so we are free to dream big for our last day.
The opinions around the table remind me how different we all are… someone just want to watch their football team win a match, someone is planning a day of housework and food prep so their loved ones are sorted for a few days. Someone just wants to go and enjoy one last day at the beach.
Before we know it, the evening is over. People are still chatting and still laughing (the amount of laughter at a Death Café will surprise you!). Feedback forms are being filled in, and some people are taking photos of my death book collection (I mean how many books on the subject can a girl have!).
I am struck by so many things - the openness of this group of strangers to speak about a subject that is so uncomfortable for most. The real vulnerability and depth to the conversations, and the amount of humour and laughter that has filled the room. The fact is that we cannot talk about dying without talking about living. Facing up to our inevitable death, focuses the mind on life - on what we have achieved, those that we love, the impact that we leave on this earth and the potential for what is yet to come.
Talking about death won’t kill you… but it just might help you to live.
For information on the next Drogheda Death Café please click here
For more information on the Death Café movement please click here