Did you know that today, 27th May 2024, is Celebration Day? Neither did I, but according to the BBC website, “The last bank holiday Monday in May has been named Celebration Day – an initiative to encourage people to take time to think about those they love who are no longer here.” I am not particularly good with dates in general, nor with some dates in particular, like birth and death days, but I know that many of us are and I can imagine that a nominated day, as suggested by Celebration Day, would be welcomed.
The big word for me is celebration because that is not a word that comes to mind when friends on social media post mournful tributes and love to their dead relatives. However, it is touching when people write about deceased parents, for example, and how they miss them every day. It is important for me to be very honest in this blog and in general terms, that is not something that happens to me every day.
My mother died suddenly after years of painful disease, my stepfather from Parkinson’s and Dementia, and in both instances their passing was a kind of blessing, a deliverance, if you will. Their funerals were stiff, formal affairs, marred by a surfeit of God and no kind of celebration for the departed at all. My father’s passing was, I felt, not a blessing because I felt he would survive his illness and enjoy a rewarding life. It was not to be. My dad died 13 years ago, my mum 25. I simply cannot spend the rest of my days wishing they were still here, constantly looking back because if I did that I fear I would never look forward.
Oohing and ahhing my way to decide whether I would there to be a Celebration Day, I find myself looking at the words of the poet Michael Rosen, whose 18-year-old son Eddie died from meningococcal septicaemia in 1999. The death of a parent and grandparent is, in general, part of the normal order of things. The death of a son, not so. There’s a lot to read here, but I don’t think I can edit it:
“Grief is hard to cope with because we want to love people and we can’t bear it that we can’t go on loving that person in the way we used to. There are times when bereaved people say ironically, grief would be so much easier to bear if we didn’t love people! It would. But we would be horrible people if we were like that.
“Outside of religious rituals – many of which strike me as helpful, and I say that as an atheist – many people don’t know what to do with their grief. Where do they put it? Who can they talk to about it? Where are the rituals, ceremonies or occasions when they can express it? As a result, death is easily brushed aside and hidden.
“How do I feel about the concept of Celebration Day? I’m not sure there’s much to celebrate! However, a day for us to think about what happened, and who we lost, seems to me like a good idea.
“When the death of a loved one is part of a bigger collective memorial, we feel that the person we’ve lost is validated.”
In it, I feel Rosen encapsulates the way many of us, I suspect, feel. I like the idea of a celebration of someone’s life rather than the mourning of their passing, but there is no way of avoiding the latter, at least in the short term. Years into the future, can you really celebrate the life of someone who died at 18? 88, maybe, but 18? I’m not so sure. But if you are still mourning the death of a parent, say, every day of your life, even if they died many years ago, would an extra day of celebration make any difference?
There are other points of view. Stephen Fry said this:
“I’m delighted to be supporting Celebration Day to remember and celebrate our loved ones no longer here.”
And TV bake-off judge Prue Leith said this:
“This is a joyous day to remember people who have inspired you or who you loved but are no longer here.
“You can do this in any way — maybe listening to music you shared, looking through photos or simply being with friends and family and raising a toast.”
I agree with Fry and Leith, too. And that’s because life and death affects us all in different ways. If we are going to have Celebration Day become a thing, then the word from the Celebration Day website can be our guide:
“Everyone can decide who they would like to celebrate; there is no detailed prescription for how you should remember.”
My view that Celebration Day could become bigger was firmed up when I read the comments of funeral director Poppy Mardall. We don’t think and talk about death enough, she says. Usually not until it happens (to someone else, obviously). Then we have to talk and think about it. Here’s her full quote:
“Because we don’t talk about death, it means that when it happens, I think most people feel at sea handling the death and the bureaucracy and the paperwork, as well as the emotion.
“I have a strong belief that if we hide things from people, we’re sending a strong message that we don’t think it’s something they can handle – that there must be something really bad and scary about the experience.
“It would be so helpful if we could share stories and talk more and share advice and tips and be more together in the process – and clearly that goes for grieving too.”
Celebration Day would have to be something that evolves by itself. There can be no instruction from on high for people to celebrate the loss of loved ones, particularly when some are still grieving weeks, months, sometimes years later. We have to be comfortable with it.
At a funeral, we don’t celebrate a death, we celebrate a life, even if it doesn’t feel like much of a celebration at the time. To me, the celebration angle is recent and welcome. We like to hear a funny anecdote that brings the memory, if not the dead person, back to life, however briefly. However, there may be people at a celebration who can’t see it as a celebration at all, the sadness, the tears, the heartbreak are too much.
I’m not engaged in Celebration Day today. It’s not that I didn’t love those who went before me and less than you loved yours. I don’t avoid what were sad times in the past. Time, for me anyway, has been a healer. But if it helps to raise a glass, say, to someone you love, especially if you just can’t get over it, then do it. And if you can find something worth celebrating, then celebrate the good times.
Maybe I’ll just listen to Celebration Day, the song, instead. Now that is worth celebrating.
