We can leave the flowers outside for the rabbits, or you can give them to someone who cant afford flowers for their funeral. This poignant comment from the undertaker struck a deep chord with me, highlighting a sobering reality: some families face the heart-wrenching challenge of not being able to afford flowers for their loved ones' funerals.

As I selected a bouquet, my mind shifted to the next significant choice: choosing a coffin. The process felt oddly reminiscent of shopping for a new sofa. With each turn of the page in the corporate brochure, the coffins displayed increasingly elaborate designs and escalating prices, each one boasting names like Merrion, Dunmore, and Chatsworth. Each choice seemed to carry not just a price tag but also an expectation of grandeur.

After carefully reviewing the myriad options and managing to resist the undertaker's subtle upselling, he finally revealed the total cost for the funeral arrangements. The figure, a staggering 4,300, seemed to suggest a clever marketing strategy designed to attract new business. I couldnt help but wonder how many families experience shock and dismay when confronted with such an overwhelming bill for their loved ones final send-off.

This amount turned out to be right on the national average for funeral costs in the UK. A startling thought crossed my mind: many individuals might feel pressured to skip the flowers altogether, as they grapple with the realization that some people simply cannot afford the burden of dying.

We can make it cheaper, the undertaker offered reassuringly, piquing my curiosity about how low the cost could actually go. To my surprise, I learned that a direct cremation a no-frills option where the undertaker drops off the coffin at the crematorium without any ceremony could be arranged for as little as 1,395. This option has gained considerable popularity over the years, especially during the pandemic, when one in seven cremations were conducted in this manner.

Research conducted by the Centre for Death and Society at the University of Bath revealed that there is no significant difference in the grief experience between those who opt for a traditional funeral service and those who choose a direct cremation.

Over the following two weeks, I dedicated time to planning my mothers farewell. At nearly 91 years old and having spent the last four years in a care home due to dementia, she had lived a long life. We knew that if one desires a grand funeral, it often requires a younger demographic. By the time someone reaches the age of 90, many of their friends and relatives may have passed away or be unable to attend due to age-related constraints. With this in mind, we decided on a simple ceremony at the crematorium.

As a dedicated officer of the Salvation Army, we wanted to incorporate hymns, a couple of heartfelt tributes, readings, and prayers into the service. However, the undertaker issued a stern warning regarding our time allocation: if we exceeded our allotted 35 minutes, we would incur a fine. The service is at 4:30 PM, and theres no one waiting after us. How much will we be fined? I inquired. The response was vague, suggesting that the crematorium staff would not be pleased if we ran over our time.

I spent countless hours crafting PowerPoint presentations to accompany the tributes, only to discover that the crematorium's system wasnt compatible with PowerPoint files. It was in this moment of panic that I realized the enormity of our situation.

Could we cancel? That evening, I reached out to my family, and to my surprise, everyone expressed relief at the prospect of canceling the extravagant plans. The undertaker displayed remarkable understanding the following morning. Just six days before the service was set to occur, we managed to cancel everything in half an hour and received a full refund. We opted instead for a direct cremation.

Without the constraints of a coffin, we found ourselves liberated to organize the ceremony in a way that felt more authentic. So we shifted the venue to a warm and welcoming Salvation Army hall.

The service was relaxed and imbued with a sense of joy. We greeted guests with tea and cake, using my mother's famous rock bun recipe. The atmosphere was casual, encouraging creativity and personal touches that made it feel deeply meaningful. At the end of the service, instead of leaving, guests lingered to enjoy the music we had chosen, wanting to savor the moment rather than depart.

It became clear that many people invest significant sumsover 4,000into traditional funeral practices, often out of a sense of obligation or adherence to societal norms. However, I personally believe theres no need for others to witness me in a coffin to feel sorrow or express their grief. I would prefer that my loved ones celebrate my life in a thanksgiving ceremony, perhaps held in a beautiful rose garden at the height of blooming season. As my daughter wisely remarked, You dont find your loved ones in a coffin; you find them where they loved to be.

It seems that many individuals might favor this approach. Yet, there is a critical caveat: families often need permission from other members regarding funeral arrangements. As we finalized the paperwork for the direct cremation, the undertaker noted, Its astonishing how many families struggle to afford a funeral but feel compelled to follow traditional practices due to pressure from other family members.

By liberating ones family from the financial burdens and expectations of tradition, you might find that you are saving them from unnecessary stress and even grief. And what about the money saved? It could be put to better use, perhaps given to families who truly cant afford the basics or, in my case, utilized to hire a gardener to nurture the roses Ive left behind.

Martin Stott writes the Storyteller Garden blog.