(It’s not about the playlist. Although that does help.)

You’ve probably been to one.

A funeral that felt… flat. Like someone just ticked off the boxes, read a generic script, and wrapped it up in 20 minutes. You left thinking, Was that it?

Now contrast that with a funeral where the person came alive in the telling.

Where the room laughed and cried. Where people said, “That was so them.”

That’s the difference a personal funeral makes.
And it’s a difference that celebrants are trained to deliver.

 

A Personal Funeral Doesn’t Mean “Big and Fancy”

It doesn’t mean seven eulogies and a doves-on-command release.
 It doesn’t mean an expensive venue or a slideshow set to Coldplay.
 It doesn’t mean theatrical.

It means:

  • The person’s life is honestly reflected
  • Their quirks, values and voice are in the room
  • The people mourning them feel seen, too
  • It’s about them, not a version of them that fits someone else’s template

It’s about truth, told with care.

Why Does This Matter?

Because funerals do something sacred — whether or not religion is involved.
 They help people:

  • Begin to process loss
  • Acknowledge reality
  • Celebrate what mattered
  • Say goodbye, in whatever way they need to

 

When the ceremony fits, it can shift something. It gives people a place to land.

When it doesn’t, it can leave people unsettled, frustrated, or with an extra layer of grief: That wasn’t them at all.

 

This Is Where Celebrants Come In

Celebrants don’t read from a standard script.
 They meet with the family or loved ones, listen deeply, ask questions, and then craft something bespoke — even if there’s only a day or two to do it.

We’ve seen ceremonies where:

  • The family wrote a group poem
  • The coffin was decorated with chalk messages
  • The music ranged from Frank Sinatra to Fatboy Slim
  • Someone cracked a joke halfway through — and it was exactly what everyone needed

A good celebrant holds that space, shapes it with care, and makes sure the person who died isn’t lost in the admin.

And we know — because we’ve done it.

Kate T and Kate D have led funerals in back gardens, barns, and seedy bars.

They’ve had sing-a-longs and grandchildren playing the piano.

They’ve had candle ceremonies and video montages.
 They’ve had colour themes, specific clothing requests, painted coffins, cardboard coffins, and beautiful handmade shrouds. They’ve joined a funeral procession with a New-Orlean’s style jazz band.

If it’s meaningful to the family — if it represents the person who’s died — they’re all in.
 Because that’s what a personal funeral should be.

 

You Can’t Fake It — But You Can Learn It

If you’re reading this thinking, I’d want someone like that at my funeral — good.
 If you’re thinking, I could do that — also good.

Creating personal funerals isn’t about being dramatic.
 It’s about being grounded, compassionate, creative — and properly trained.

This is professional work. It’s emotional labour. And it’s one of the most meaningful roles you can step into.

 

Wondering What It’s Like to Be a Funeral Celebrant?

We get it — it’s a big decision. But if this kind of work speaks to you, don’t ignore it.

👉 Join our mailing list to hear how others made the leap
 👉 Come to a Monday Meet Up for the honest lowdown on what the role involves

We’ll talk about:

  • What training includes
  • What it’s like working with funeral directors and families
  • What’s hard, what’s powerful, and what makes it all worth it

You don’t need to have all the answers.
 You just need to be open to the question.

 

Viva.

Kate and Kate