Unattended cremations are the silver lining to the £10k cost of dying

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A pub farewell (Image: Getty Images)
A pub farewell (Image: Getty Images)

We’re all more than familiar with the cost-of-living crisis – now, welcome to the cost-of-dying crisis.

Recent increases in cremation and burial fees mean the average cost of a basic funeral – ­cremation/burial, funeral director, mid-range coffin, one limousine, minister/celebrant – is now £4,140. A more elaborate send-off – all the above plus memorial, death and funeral notices, flowers, order of service booklets, limousines, wake venue and catering – will be nearly £10,000.

Faced with having to take out high interest loans or sell possessions in order to say even a low-key goodbye to our loved ones, it appears we’re going to have no option but to all live forever from now on.

No wonder unattended cremations are becoming ever more popular, up from 3% in 2019 to 20% in 2023. This means, just as it seems – there are no mourners present and no service takes place. The cremation happens, and the ashes are given to the family afterwards to do with what they will.

Maybe this sounds a little cold and depressing, but I wonder if actually it may lead to us ­celebrating the lives of those we lose in a much more meaningful, personal way. Of course if you’re very religious you won’t be able to adjust the funeral customs, or want to. But if you’re not, or you are, but your religion allows some flexibility, there could be another way. After all, how many of us have been to funerals that have felt quite… done by numbers? Same old service, only the name has been changed?

Kamala Harris and George Floyd's brother among hundreds at Tyre Nichols funeral qhiqqhiqxxirtinvKamala Harris and George Floyd's brother among hundreds at Tyre Nichols funeral

And if you aren’t part of any particular faith, being in a church can range from an empty to hypocritical experience.

After an unattended cremation – or burial – you are free to celebrate the life of your loved one however you choose, in a way utterly specific to them and the person they were. Completely bespoke. Unique, just like them.

What you do could be big or small, long or short, whatever seems right.

If they loved their local, you could all pop there for a pint, chat, and tell stories about them. If they were a keen ten pin bowler, you could arrange a game in their memory, perhaps people could pay to take part and the proceeds be given to the charity they supported or which helped them if they’d been battling an illness. If they enjoyed feeding the birds in the park, you could have a picnic (British weather permitting, obviously).

Maybe, just maybe, this price hike could have a positive impact on the ritual so necessary in the process of accepting loss.

So rather than bankrupting us, it can be reimagined, and made even more profound in the process. Here’s hoping it can actually end up being, as the cliche goes, what they really would have wanted.

Polly Hudson

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