It was good to get an email from Hannah Peterson, a fan of My Last Song from the US, which showed that the move to get a better deal from the funeral industry is as active there as it is here in the UK.

She works for an online company that provides life insurance quotes, and she drew my attention to a piece they have on their website, 8 Ways Funeral Homes Will Try To Rip You Off.

I like it because of the humour: “While funeral homes may stop short of asking you if you want fries with your casket, they may try to convince you to add on products and services you simply don’t need.”

It also warns of what I hope is a practice not used here, which is that funeral homes (UK English: Funeral Directors) employ ‘grief counsellors’ who call the bereaved family and try to upsell, or as they put it: “a salesperson trying to guilt-trip you into upgrading to a $5,000 coffin.”

The way not to get ripped off is to be better informed, which is why Hannah and her colleagues have written such a useful and engaging piece.

It is why here in the UK  Charles Cowling, publisher of the Good Funeral Guide, should be supported and congratulated. The funeral directors he recommends are those like Poppy Mardall, who are moving away from what Charles calls the ‘hush-and-awe’ approach, to be more modern, transparent and flexible.

What a contrast to the Co-operative Funeralcare’s venal approach exposed earlier this year.

When I started My Last Song four long years ago death, dying and bereavement were subjects rarely covered by media old or new. I had been to two funerals which were dreadfully inappropriate farewells and thought there must be a better way…from that My Last Song developed.

At one stage it had the strapline: Because a good life deserves a good ending, and that’s still our view.

Since then there has been an increasingly rapid change of attitude, highlighted by two or three events which, though small themselves, are significant because of what they signal.

But before that, mention should be made of organisations which have worked hard to change society’s view of how we end our lives. Dying Matters, set up in 2009 by the National Council for Palliative Care, works tirelessly to deliver its aim to change public knowledge, attitudes and behaviours towards death, dying and bereavement.

Dignity in Dying is hugely effective in educating the public in their rights to have a good death, including the option of an assisted death for the terminally ill.

The British Humanist Association has publicised the virtues of a humanist funeral for those who have no religious beliefs and the Institute of Civil Funerals have ensured that civil funerals, often a mix of religious and secular, are conducted to a high standard.

And no summary of changes to funerals would be complete without mentioning The Good Funeral Guide who recommends those funeral directors who are moving with the times, and whose criticisms of the Cooperative Funeralcare and Dignity chains are founded on their sometimes appalling failings in customer care standards.

What of the smaller events which confirm the trend towards taking control of the end of life is gaining momentum?

First, the blog posted by ‘grief specialist’ Kristie West entitled Can A Funeral Be Beautiful? This highlights the film, Remembering Josh Edmonds, a poignant tribute video of a 22 year-old’s life and extraordinarily personal funeral. Making this film was his family’s way of celebrating Josh’s life, something that would have been unheard of a few years ago when the only acceptable way of treating a young death would have been to emphasise the tragic grief of a life taken too early.

At the other end of life’s passage, the Chicago Tribune highlighted what they call ‘Dignity Therapy’ which takes the form of interviewing the dying patient to record their messages to their loved ones, transcribing it and then producing a leather bound ‘legacy document.’

In this country, a similar service is provided by A Giving Tribute, an excellent start up which deserves great success.

The ever growing popularity of green funerals and the ‘natural death’ movement also shows that people are discussing the end of life event they want rather than leaving it to the local funeral director.

More radical still is the Death Café, currently only in London, but planning to expand to other parts of the UK, where, in the words of their website, ‘strangers come together to discuss death and eat delicious food.’ I plan to attend the next Death Café day, and will hopefully add to the favourable reports.

Note too that the photographers specialising in funeral photography, something that would have been frowned up a few years ago.  Farewell Photos and Funeography deserve a mention.

As for My Last Song, the growing use of the Lifebox where people store their funeral wishes, life stories, details to help their loved ones cope following their deaths shows the idea is increasingly appealing as is the number of people visiting the page describing the benefits of having individual death plans to ensure, as much as possible, you can have a comfortable and comforting death.

So at last we are changing our attitude to death, dying and bereavement, influenced for too long by Queen Victoria’s lifelong despair at the death of Prince Albert, into something we should discuss and be in control of.

Our deaths should be just as important as the rest of our lives, and thought of like this, a good life will indeed have a good ending.

 The theme of this year’s Dying Matters Coalition Awareness Week (16 to 22 May) is ‘Why Dying Matters to me’ which is as good as any to get people to address the taboo surrounding death.

I fully support the aims of Dying Matters, a broad coalition headed by the National Council for Palliative Care, to raise awareness of death, dying and bereavement. This shouldn’t come as a huge surprise since My Last Song was established in the belief that more people would address their mortality on line, and use My Last Song to ‘Go out on a high note.’

I take heart in the increasing signs that society is more ready to address the subject of death in a positive way. This, I think, is because people are living longer and therefore most deaths don’t cause the terrible grieving such as Queen Victoria’s reaction to the early passing of her beloved Prince Albert.

So, does the ending of a long and fulfilled life mean that death is easier to address?  Is it also easier to accept given a medical diagnosis of a terminal illness that allows time to come to terms with a life that will end?

For many people the thought of discussing the end of life causes distress, anxiety and embarrassment, and they want to put it off. However, as Dying Matters understands, if you face the subject from a more informed and positive approach, the negatives are reduced.

My Last Song has produced an innovative and holistic ‘Death Plan’ template to encourage discussion about a person’s last days alive so that they have a ‘good death’.  The issues that are covered include medical treatment, physical comfort, emotional and spiritual needs and ways in which stress and fear can be reduced.

The questions are designed to involve the person’s doctor, close family and friends and even professional advisers so that the person whose life is ending has no concerns about issues, such as their will or who looks after their pets, that should have been resolved.

I hope that all those who support Dying Matters and who will use this week to raise awareness will also see the benefits of promoting personalised death plans as a way of reducing the fear of dying and increasing our control over how we end our lives.

It is, I think, quite a common view expressed during the funeral reception that it’s a shame the person whose life is being remembered wasn’t there to enjoy the company of the gathered friends, family, ex-colleagues, neighbours.

Many people have also told me that they imagine what their funeral will be like because of the people who will attend and hear the tributes, listen to the last songs and swap stories and reminiscences.

These are probably the reasons why living funerals are becoming more popular here and in the US.

When speaking to comedian Arthur Smith, by chance a neighbour of mine, about My Last Song, he told me that his brother Richard, a respected doctor, had written a blog supporting the advantages of living funerals, not the least of which is the advanced planning means far flung loved ones can attend whereas they are unlikely to make the funeral at shorter notice.

A living funeral is the logical destination of the wish to have a farewell ceremony that is a celebration of your life, rather than the traditional grief-fest.

And why not have a ‘party of a lifetime’ to celebrate your life with the people whose lives have touched your life. You can thank them, remind them of their importance to you, swap memories and stories, share your achievements and hopes and, not least, be the centre of attention.

As the founder of My Last Song, I would also emphasise the importance of selecting the music that you’ve most enjoyed, and which has special significance.  The same attention should be paid to the food, the drink and the other details that will make this a party that people will never forget.

You should also organise someone to make a video of the party, or at the least take still photographs.  The video and images can then be put in your Lifebox to be accessed by loved ones in future years, so that your memory, and your memorable last party, can be enjoyed many times over.

Clearly you have to take your family with you, and some of the more traditional members might disapprove.  However, the advantages over and above people’s liking of a good party, include the fact that they won’t have to pay for a reception once you’ve died and also reducing the grief they might otherwise feel when faced with your demise.

After all, how much better to look back on someone’s life and remember the warmth and enjoyment of a final celebration than wish they had been able to share this once it’s too late.

Once the grim reaper has called, the party really is over.

This is an edited contribution by Kwame Twumasi-Fofie to My Last Song which shows that not all Ghanaians are happy with the growing trend for expensive and party-style funerals in Ghana. 

Among Ghanaians in general, and the Akan people in particular, one event that brings us together more than any other is bereavement. 

In rural Ghana where even now birthday and wedding celebrations are virtually unknown, funerals have always been a significant feature of our social life. However, as funerals are all about mourning rather than partying, I believe that we in Ghana have lost its meaning, replacing it with commercialisation and exhibitionism.    

Until quite recently, one significant aspect of Akan tradition was that mourning and feasting never went together. Today, however, when you attend a funeral you may be forgiven for thinking that it’s a big party with huge amounts of food on offer.

Video coverage has also become a familiar item on a funeral budget, which given the cost in what is still a relatively poor economy, makes little sense. 

Another well documented fashionable trend is the use of expensive coffins. They are now so costly that people are now deliberately destroying them after depositing them in the grave so they won’t be stolen!  

Until very recently, bereaved family members only wore rubber sandals on their feet as it was considered inappropriate to be mourning while in expensive clothes. These days, however, ladies’ funeral clothing in particular is more suitable as party outfits. 

It is now common for bodies to be kept in the mortuary for six months or longer to enable dilapidated homes to be renovated or sometimes new ones built before the burial.  

Previously the body would be buried as soon as possible and the funeral held at a later date.  Now dead bodies stay in the mortuary for as long as it takes people to raise funds for a ‘grand funeral’.  

The high cost of funerals is mainly due to our brothers and sisters living outside the country.  Most of them are usually constrained from visiting home as regularly as they want due to their limited finances.  Yet in their attempt to impress some spend lavishly on funerals with borrowed money which on their return, they try to recoup by organising parties under the guise of funerals. 

And the irony is that we do not really care much about the final resting place of the dead.  Cemeteries in Ghana are often neglected, with weeds growing among the graves. 

It would be better if the huge sums of money spent on funerals could be used to improve the final resting place of our loved ones.  

It’s time our traditional rulers, politicians and religious leaders waged war against expensive funerals because it is destroying our society.

A few months ago, during a dreary long November evening, I turned to the solace of music, in particular the music of Neil Diamond.

After listening to some of my favourite numbers, I realised just how appropriate many of his songs were to mark the end of someone’s life. So I spent most of the night playing his songs, listing them, re-ordering them, adding to and amending my choices and when finalised, writing cameo descriptions of their unique appeal and qualities as farewell songs.

The next morning, hardly a word had to be changed when I added the article to My Last Song – called simply Farewell Songs From Neil Diamond.

Now, four months later, I have played every track in the list, and I want you to enjoy the beauty and power of some of these songs. Self indulgent, yes, but please share this indulgence with me by listening to the following by clicking the YouTube clips in the article.

Stones
A haunting, poetic song of recalled love and yearning made more beautiful by the sumptuous arrangement.  Stones marked Diamond’s arrival as a writer of original, complex and exceptionally moving songs, using metaphor and imagery with a confidence that would make him one of the outstanding artists of his generation.

If You Go Away
Originally by Jacques Brel, this is one of the most endearing love songs ever written. Diamond clearly recognised its emotional power and delivers an unforgettably touching, sensitive version.

Play Me
In the most lovely, sensitive couplets Diamond reveals to his lover the extent to which he depends on her for his very existence. ‘You are the sun, I am the moon, You are the words, I am the tune…Play me.’ And if ever a melody was written that matched a song’s sentiments, Diamond achieves it here.

Dear Father
Diamond wrote the score for the film Jonathan Livingstone Seagull including this heart rending tour de force. Symphonic in structure, much of it is instrumental and epic in its aural power and pastoral beauty. ‘Dear Father, we dream while we may,’ is the description of so many lives unfulfilled but no less special.

I’ve Been This Way Before
A particularly appropriate farewell song with Diamond extracting every last drop of emotion. In adding layer upon layer of sound, power and sentiment, Diamond proves he’s the master of poignant sadness. It articulates intense grief, yet also can be read as promising hope and release.

Dry Your Eyes
You get the feeling that Diamond is seeing the crowded church swaying to the swirling rhythms, tears swelling in every eye, the haunting French horns used to scintillating effect as the song comes to an end. ‘And if you can’t recall the reason, can you hear the people sing? Right through the lightening and the thunder to the dark side of the moon, To that distant falling angel that descended much too soon. And come dry your eyes.’ Dry Your Eyes is an almost shameless manipulation of our raw emotions.

Be
Poetry of the highest order, ‘Be as a page that aches for a word, Which speaks on a theme that is timeless, While the one God will make for your day. Sing as a song in search of a voice that is silent, And the one God will make for your way.’ The magnificent arrangement builds into an intense climax, before a gentle closing. The closest Diamond has come to writing a hymn.

Hello Again
Diamond here expresses the grief of parting from a loved one…it hurts so much nothing can disguise it. Unbearable sadness, perfectly expressed.

I Am I Said
Poetic, enigmatic, intense, and emotional with a brilliant arrangement and memorable melody. I Am I Said excites and disturbs in equal measure. His dramatic delivery ensures we share his vulnerability.
Well, if you have got this far, and if you have played some of these tracks I thank you and hope you share my enthusiasm for and love of Neil Diamond’s songs.

As you can gather, they mean a huge amount to me. And, in the right setting, they might mean a lot to others as well.

It’s great news that two UK based websites My Last Song and The Good Funeral Guide have been selected as the world’s top funeral websites by US guru Brian Burkhardt, also known as ‘YourFuneralGuy’.

I must say I was surprised when Google Alerts, true to its name, alerted me to the fact that My Last Song was the number one funeral website slot.

In the past two years there’s been a big increase in the number of funeral and bereavement websites and blogs, particularly in the US, so for My Last Song to be chosen as the best funeral website in the world by an American funeral expert is quite an honour.

Second placed website, The Good Funeral Guide, was started in 2009 by Charles Cowling, author of the Guide.

Charles, who is at the centre of the new-era funeral blogging and tweeting community, confirms the growing trend for online funeral information. “There’s a lot of global ideas-swapping around the topic of evolving funeral customs, especially in the English speaking world.”

It seems likely that the growing interest in end of life websites is because the baby boomer generation is now facing their mortality. As Charles puts it: “These are the people who reinvented youth culture. Just watch them reinvent death culture.”

This generation will want their funerals to reflect their views and lifestyles instead of the often dreary traditional event, built around a religious ritual out of place in an increasingly secular 21st century.

Another reason for the increased use of funeral planning and funeral information websites is the desire to save money.

Funeral costs are rising fast, and the customer is often getting a bad deal because the funeral industry knows they are dealing with people unable or unwilling to discuss money when organising a loved one’s funeral.

As Charles Cowling says, “There are many ways of saving money when planning a funeral and negotiating with the funeral directors. The Good Funeral Guide and My Last Song have lots of advice on how to save money and also have a better, more appropriate funeral.”

A number of organisations wanting to change how funerals are handled have formed a loose alliance called the Farewell Innovators. These include a photographer specialising in funeral photography and a company producing bespoke memorial books of photographs.

Also involved are those who offer eco-friendly funerals and a more personal, often more celebratory approach, to the final goodbye.

All use the new technology so I hope that next year, these new companies feature in lists of the top websites.

The Demos report, Dying For Change, is a closely argued and important pamphlet.

For those without much time I commend the executive summary, and for those with less time, the thesis of the report is as follows.

The demographics of this country mean more people will be dying of old age every year. Such deaths are usually drawn out, complex and costly.

The good news is that much of our extended lives will be better spent…the bad news though is that we are more likely to die lonely and impersonal deaths in hospitals, hospices and care homes. Not surprisingly,  two thirds of people asked in a related survey wanted to die at home.

To reverse the increasing numbers of people who will die in hospital, and to reduce the escalating end of life costs to the NHS, Demos propose some radical changes.

The least radical is to improve the way hospitals and care homes look after people who are dying.

Improving these services won’t meet people’s aspirations to die at home, nor will they reduce the costs to the NHS. So Demos put forward effective community alternatives.

The report suggests that the NHS should invest £500 million a year, only 2.5 per cent of its spending on end of life care, “to create the backbone for community services” to allow a far higher number people to die at or close to home.

These community services include:

• Creating new places for people to die close to home where they could be with friends and family;
• Strengthened family capacity to care by providing a dedicated compassionate care benefit or care leave entitlement to provide financial support to look after a dying relative;
• Creating a properly trained volunteer support network;
• Setting up dedicated 24/7 nursing support;
• Establishing dedicated end of life telephone help lines;
• Setting up a national ‘hospice at home’ service to tend those dying at home;
• Providing people with a key relationship to end of life advisers.

I can only praise a report that addresses the issues that My Last Song faces full on, and in particular the confirmation that the only way to improve how we die is by people addressing dying. As the report points out people are frightened not by death but by dying because family and many family doctors are unable to talk about it. Ignorance and fear go hand in hand, and fear is not what you should feel as you approach your end.

Which is a prompt for me to extol the virtues of the death plan which is in the My Last Song Lifebox, ready to be filled in when most convenient, and with the participation of close family and even the family doctor.

This is not another version of the Advanced Care Plans or Preferred Priorities of Care forms which concentrate on the medical care and treatment.

The My Last Song death plan instead addresses the more spiritual and existential needs of a dying person.

Who do they want to be present? What do they want to see? What do they want to hear? What do they want to smell? How do they want to be touched? How much do they want that their loved ones to know?

The death plan also enables them to be reassured their affairs are in order and that they need have no concerns about family, friends or pets.

If the patient, the family and the medical staff collaborate to fill in the death plan, it will help people leave this life as content as possible which while not something you can put a value on, is priceless.

The My Last Song Lifebox is the area of the website where people are encouraged to save their funeral wishes, letter of wishes and the personal details required by their executor when they die.

This will reduce the terrible stress and anxiety felt by the relatives immediately after someone dies when they realise they have to arrange the funeral.

All too often, the parted has left no wishes, and so families don’t know if they will be organising the sort of funeral their loved would have wanted.

Yet if grieving families know they are giving the loved one the funeral he or she wanted, they feel more positive and can come to terms with the loss more easily. The goodbye they are giving the parted is somehow more reassuring if they have arranged the funeral in a less stressful and more constructive frame of mind.

The Lifebox is also the place where people can store other personal information in sections such as Favourite Things; Friends; Life Story; My Obituary; Photos; Music; Scrapbooks and even My Secrets.

Currently with 50 megabytes of storage available in each Lifebox (and this likely to increase over time) the Lifebox subscriber can store video clips or audio recordings giving personal messages which can then be accessed by close loved ones for years after the subscriber has died.

The opportunity to go into the Lifebox and watch or hear the loved one will undoubtedly reduce the sense of loss,  because the loved one will seem to live on as people can see the face, hear the voice, recall the mannerisms, be touched by the smile.

To some extent the same is true of the written information subscribers puts into their Lifebox…to know their favourite music, favourite films, favourite holiday destinations, their achievements, their friends, even their secrets, mean their memory is much more vital and will remain so for far longer.

That is why I’m so encouraged by the positive feedback I’m getting to the Lifebox as a particularly useful online area not just to ensure the subscriber has the funeral he or she wants, but as a place that can provide a sort of digital immortality, reassuring to loved ones now and in the future.

On Friday evening, like so many previous Friday evenings, I went to my squash club to participate in club night.  As I entered the changing room I said a cheery hello to my friend Alex.  As I opened my locker he came up to me and asked if I had heard what had happened to Everton, a stalwart member of the club and a regular opponent on club nights.

I hadn’t heard…

…on the previous Saturday cycling home from the club, Everton had been killed in a road accident.

It took sometime for this news to sink in.  It was particularly shocking for many reasons.

On that dreadful Saturday I was also at the club. I recalled asking Everton why he was going at lunchtime instead of staying to play on a Saturday afternoon as he often did.

He told me he had to get home to see his daughter, so it quickly dawned on me that I was one of the last people to see Everton alive. What if I had engaged him in a longer conversation…or delayed him to book a game?

And all the time, his image, his voice, his very person invaded my thoughts.  I found it difficult to believe I was not going to see Everton again.

Everton was one of the nicest, most dignified people you could ever wish to meet.  He always had a smile on his face, a witty repost when teased about how seriously he took the game, an eagerness to congratulate an opponent for a good shot that won the point and the ability to enlighten and enliven a changing room conversation on any topic.

He never swore nor said a bad word about anybody.  Although an intelligent man, he seemed to want only to be a good father and a reasonable squash player.

If there was one person who deserved to live a long and happy life, to see his children grow up, to win a few more games of squash, to be loved and respected by those who knew him, it was Everton.

The club is putting on a memorial evening on Wednesday which I and his many friends at the club will attend, and donate money to the charity his widow has chosen.

I cannot fathom why his life should be cut short so cruelly but it upsets me to my very soul. I will attend the funeral, and try to give as much comfort as possible to his widow, children and family, some of whom will be coming from the Caribbean, others from the Midlands…Everton never lost a soft black country accent.

Many members of the squash club will be there too, as they were as devastated at the news as I was, for to know Everton, if only for an hour on the squash court, was to like and respect him.  To know him for much longer was to love him.

Everton’s death is also making me reassess some of  the articles on My Last Song that promote the view that a funeral should be the celebration of the life passed. Well, this view is of funerals of individuals whose lives have run their full course. Looking back on such lives will recall the achievements of the person, the love of their wives, children and grandchildren, the passage from young adulthood to middle age, to older age and then to their natural ending.

But Everton’s life will not be marked this way for it ended  far too soon, and for me and and for those attending, his funeral will be sad almost beyond endurance.