The Death Café

Serving up death talk and crumpets.

By Charlotte Eulette

At 85, my dad decided to die at the time and place of his “leaving.” In other words, he took his death into his own hands. My dad and I were close, and I was with him when he talked about how he wanted to die and have his death wishes honored. The last and final gift we exchanged with each other took place after he died with a life celebration memorial ceremony before a packed room of family and friends whose stories about my dad were woven into the ceremony I presided over as his Celebrant and daughter.

Before we go any further, I’d like to ask if we could please use the word “die” and not the term “pass away.” When we cease to live, we die, we do not pass away.

Thanks.

How many of you have spoken to your spouse, parents, or loved ones about what they want to have happen to them when they die, or even their thoughts about death?

I thought so.

Ask yourself these questions: What are your thoughts about death? What deaths have you experienced in your life that define how you feel about dying? What are your fears or desires around your death?

About two years ago my colleague Jack Cuffari and I started the Essex County Death Café. We get together about five to six times a year with people from this area to simply talk about death. The purpose is to bring death out of the shadows, to offer a friendly place for conversation about our thoughts and beliefs surrounding death so that we can more fully live.

Our Death Cafés are not bereavement or support groups, and they are not set up to sell anything or promote a way of thought. They are simply about people who are interested in getting together to listen to each other talk about death in a safe, non-judgmental environment where everything discussed is confidential.

A typical Death Café starts around 7 p.m. on a Thursday night, in a private home. A circle of chairs is set up in the living room, and in the center of the circle is a table with a three-tiered candle on it. On the dining room table are goodies like crumpets and baklava and sparkling drinks. People begin to arrive at the top of the hour.

To start off, we invite three people to come up and light one of the three candles. Each candle represents us honoring the people or beings in our past, present, and future.

Then we go around circle, ask everyone to say their name and tell us why they’ve come. One by one, everyone speaks and listens quietly to each other.

After this first round we share a reading. Sometimes it’s the famous line from Peter Pan, where Peter says to Wendy, “Ahhh, Death! Life’s great final adventure!”

Jack and I ask more questions of the group. Is there a death you have experienced that defines how you feel about death? How would you like to be remembered? What do you think happens after you die?

At the end, we share a final reading, and then we all stand and blow out the candles. In the end, there’s a great sense of calm in the room.

Who comes to these gatherings? Emergency room nurses, authors, clergy, social workers, yoga teachers, obituary writers, teenagers, journalists, people who are dying, therapists and plain old folks like you and me. And here is what some of them have to say about the experience:

“Even though I don’t know anyone here I feel close to them. I’m not able to talk to my family about my death yet, but hopefully I may be able to so soon.”

“I’ll go talk with my parents to discuss their plans and maybe have a Death Café with my family members like this one.”

“My brother died years ago and nobody talked about it. I’d like to open this conversation again with my family.”

“My spouse and I are gay and I want to make sure that when either of us die our wishes are honored, and I want to make sure the funeral home is gay friendly too.”

“My cat died but I could never express myself because I felt it was foolish to do so. I don’t know what the heck happens after we die. But I like talking about it now!”

Every Death Café is a learning experience and an opportunity to talk with fellow humans about death. It’s not about “closure” as we’re always told. It’s really about “opening.”

Death isn’t the enemy: It’s the reality of every living soul. The enemy is our fear of death — our fear of even discussing it — which prevents us from truly living.

Charlotte Eulette is the international director of the Celebrant Foundation and Institute. Learn more about Death Cafés here.

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