Q:

My uncle died a few weeks ago. He was living on the other side of the country and we weren’t close but he was the closest relative I had left on my dad’s side of the family. We acknowledged birthdays and Christmas and saw each other every two years or so but not so much over the last two years because of Covid. He was a reclusive man and not big on staying in contact. Well apparently he died and he was single and I was only notified by his solicitor like two weeks after his death and was told that my brother had got everything organised, that he’d been ill and that I was the beneficiary of the estate and the solicitors were the executors because my uncle didn’t want to hassle me and I’d get given the estate after probate. I was so shocked and when I asked about the funeral, they said that my uncle had prearranged everything and the cremation had been done – he’d not wanted a funeral apparently. I just didn’t know how to process this and then today, I got a little cardboard box delivered and apparently what’s in it is the ashes of my uncle. In a cardboard box with a tag on it. I went to pieces and I don’t understand why?

So Seraphina, what say you?

Bemused and Confused

A:

Dear Bemused and Confused,

As ever, I am sorry for your loss.

Your uncle chose an affordable, no fuss disposal of their remains but now you’re left with a small box of “what now” and empty grief. It may feel like you’ve nowhere to hang your grief and as such you’re hanging on to it and it’s weighing you down.

Your uncle was your last living relative and a connection to your late father. You don’t have to be physically close to someone for them to have meaning in your life.

I sometimes think in our modern world with our busy modern lives that we’ve forgotten that sometimes we have rituals so that we have a process to follow through.

A “traditional” funeral involves the coming together of the people who knew the departed. The family, the friends, the community and in coming together, they acknowledge the departed, what they meant, the mark that they left and create a hook on which to hang the grief. It is and was a way to be seen, to have your loss recognised and to share stories and memories. There is catharsis in going through the ritual.

In our modern world, however, we are busier and more “connected” than ever before in history with social media “friends” and “followers” and yet we’re often starved of actual real life connection. Our families and friends are often far-flung across the country and the globe. And in terms of locality – how many people actually know their neighbours beyond a passing “hi – you ok?”. Isolation and loneliness is the norm for so many.

And when one feels disconnected from their community, the appeal to them of a “no fuss” funeral along with the desire to minimise costs, is why (in a large part) they’re selecting them. Let’s face it, no one wants to imagine their funeral let alone a funeral where the staff outnumber the mourners; particularly if you’ve got to pay a small fortune for it.

It is also to be considered that a burial often has more ritual for mourners to follow than cremation. Let’s face it, the reality of a cremation rather detracts from the whole “rest in peace”. So it’s understandable why there’s less mourner involvement when cremation is chosen.

But we forget, when we make our plans, that in choosing the most affordable and simple disposal option, that we can deny our family and loved ones the ceremony, the catharsis and the symbolic laying to rest.

Your uncle chose what he thought was the simplest way as a gift; so that you didn’t need to “hassle”. But you’re now left with a literal ignominious box of ashes and a sense of something missing and frustration because “what now?”

The solution is two-pronged. The disposal of the ashes and ritual of grief and they can be dealt with separately or together.

The ashes. So many choices these days from the always mentioned scattering of ashes (which often isn’t a good choice) to putting them into a wall of remembrance (which is often the opposite) to pressing them into jewellery to fireworks to shooting them into space on a rocket (super expensive), to leaving them gathering dust at the bottom of your cupboard while you decide what to do.

But if all the choice is overwhelming, I’d get a tree pod urn. On their own, ashes are often too acidic to allow plants to grow (which is why direct scattering can be harmful). But pop them into a specially designed container – well it’s the perfect thing to plant along with a tree. So planting trees is a good thing and you’ve then got a living memorial to your uncle and your dad’s side of the family.

Then allied to the ashes disposal is the grief ritual – the remembrance of your uncle.

And here’s where you’re looking to acknowledge that your uncle was a complicated man who tried to do his best to unburden you but didn’t realise it would feel more burdensome. So gather your nearest and dearest and share some memories of your uncle with them – raise a glass and toast him and give him the quiet send-off that you need to acknowledge, accept and mourn his death. Good luck to you and remember that grief isn’t a one-size-fits-all; it comes in all sorts of ways and taking the time to talk it out (the good, the bad and the ugly) can be cathartic.