The Country Celebrant and The Country Carer

It has been a few months since I wrote a piece. I have been busy working on the Doula side of my business and it occurred to me that some of you might be interested to know a little more. Doula comes from the ancient Greek and translates as a handmaiden or servant - birth doulas are trained in supporting a woman through the birthing process.  End of life doulas, sometimes called soul midwives, are trained in supporting someone through the process of dying. Our training is not medical.  We are trained to support a family in the closing days of life, to be an advocate for the person who is dying and to be a shoulder to cry on; a gatekeeper and a friend. My experience of doula-ing is very practical; I will spend time with the dying person to allow the principal carer a break, my role can be to help them to mend fences, clear up loose ends and say goodbye.  I do this by listening to what they want, I encourage the important people to be there and keep the conflict and...

Currently I am supporting a lady as her life draws to a close.  My job is to reassure her through the night.  I arrive at 10 o'clock, she is courteous and appears pleased to see me.  We chat about how she is feeling and I share a few details of my life and what is happening in the world outside her room. I might read to her whilst she prepares to sleep.  Some nights we are up and down quite a bit, I doze on a blowup mattress beside her; it reminds me of sharing a room with a baby.  You relax to a point, but the changes in breathing somehow penetrate your somnambulant state. Last night was extremely peaceful, I find myself writing this journal as I sit beside her.  The room is bathed in the soft glow of a low light, a fan chunters away in the background, dawn is about to break and the day around us is starting. Before she went to sleep I massaged her shoulders and neck with a balm to soothe her pain and provide some warmth and the healing power of ...

I thought that some of you might be interested in my work as a Doula. I have worked with families for a very long time; I am a Mother to three wonderful and very nearly grown-up people and I have run a pre-school in Hampshire since forever. When my Father died I wanted to honour him by burying him on his farm.  I struggled to talk to him about his wishes right until the end; I did not have the courage to raise such a personal issue. As is so often the case, events overtook us ... he was terminally ill and had made it clear to the doctors that he wanted no further intervention.  He died in his own bed with those whom he loved carrying on as best they could around him. We buried him in a clearing on the farm.  The only people present were his immediate family, a very compassionate funeral director (who happened to be my son's rugby coach) and the dogs. I knew then that I needed to learn to do this job properly and by that I don't mean the formality of being a ce...

Today has been an extraordinary day.  I have never written or delivered a ceremony for an animal before.  I would not normally do so, not because I am anti pet ceremonies.  I am an animal lover and I fully appreciate the joy of owning an animal. Mabel was a border collie cross, she came into the life of her owner as an adult dog and they shared everything for some 15 years. Mabel's owner is a lady in her 60's who has been on her own since her parents died when she was in her middle age.  The lady is alone, she has additional needs; mainly anxiety but also profound loneliness and some autistic tendencies. Mabel was her rock, when things got bad she would press her body against the lady's leg and look up at her with that wonderful smile that collie dogs are so good at giving.  Mabel knew if she was the subject of the conversation; she would thump her tail on the floor and squirm with pleasure, joining in with all that was being discussed. For the last 15 y...

The Country Celebrant  So here we are, the middle of January already; the United Kingdom has been buffeted by a series of storms that have swelled the rivers until they burst, leaving people with a deluge of mud and silt and detritus to clear away. We have lost icons of the stage and film and on a personal level we have, undoubtedly, lost people who mean the world to us; ordinary people who made no momentous contribution to the world but who shaped us by the very fact that we knew them. I was told the story of a cowman who taught a child to care for calves, to rear those orphaned, by hand - dipping her hand into a bucket of warm milk and allowing the calf to suck her fingers until it got the hang of how to drink.     I remember doing that as a child, I remember the rasp of the tongue on my fingers and the anticipation of a bite.  A calf does not bite, he does not have the teeth to do so. I am preparing for a new journey in my life; I have one son living on the ...