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How a London, Ont., funeral director is destigmatizing death through conversation

A London, Ont. funeral director is on a quest to de-stigmatize death by speaking about it as much as he can, to as many people as possible.

People report relief, gratitude after having difficult conversations about their demise, Paul Needham says

Paul Needham in Northview Funeral Chapel, one of the two funeral homes he owns and operates.
Paul Needham in Northview Funeral Chapel, one of the two funeral homes he owns and operates. (Alessio Donnini/CBC News)

Paul Needham remembers the first time someone called him a death educator. 

At the time, roughly 13 years ago, the title casually given to him in a thank-you letter from a grieving widow following her husband's funeral struck him as surprising and strange, the London funeral director said.

Now, it's something that has shaped his career and altered its trajectory.

"It absolutely changed the way I view my work, how I deal with families, what I say to families," said Needham, who has roughly 38 years of experience as a funeral director and owns Northview and Westview Funeral Chapels in London, Ont.

Since that day, Needham said, he's expanded his scope of responsibility past the role of a funeral director, and has included a quest to de-stigmatize death through conversation.

He does that through countless hours spent speaking to rooms full of long-term care residents and thanatology students, but also through a special emphasis on having those conversations with individuals.

"It's an effort to take a lot of the negative stigma out of death and dying," he said. "I really endeavor to provide families with some eye opening material, some information that should be helpful to them in contemplating their own demise or that of someone that they know [and love]."

Needham is often called to long-term care homes in the London region and beyond to speak with residents and educate staff, he said, adding that the importance of these conversations is paramount in his eyes.

"In North America, I feel as if we've become part of a death denying society. A good example is that people will not refer to someone as having died. They'll say, 'We've lost them,' or 'They've passed away,'" Needham said.

Paul Needham and a cute dog.
Needham says his whole operation has been shaped by the idea of death education being a core pillar of his work. Part of that is ramping up the level of comfort clients feel — something his dog, Willow, helps with. (Alessio Donnini/CBC News)

The dark cloud that hangs over the discussion is exactly what leads to some 80 per cent of Needham's clients first making contact with him after the death of their loved ones, he said.

That lack of planning often leads to a difficult funeral planning process that happens in the throes of grief, rather than allowing the deceased person's loved ones can focus solely on mourning and remembrance.

While convincing people that speaking about their inevitable demise is difficult, Needham finds a compassionate, but direct approach to those conversations is key in helping people understand what's at stake.

Particularly in the conversations he has with families and individuals, he said, a number of straightforward and necessary goals like statistical information for death registration, obituaries, and funeral plans are important.

Those conversations often go in the direction of education on aspects of deathcare like embalming, to personal aspects like spirituality.

In terms of answering the big question of what really happens after death, Needham said he doesn't shy away from admitting it's unclear.

"It's often a question of faith. I'll often relate to how I feel, but acknowledge it's all guesswork anyways, based on a hope and a promise, right?" Needham said. "It's how you deal with it and how you approach it that enables you to get through it and come out a new person."

The death talk should happen early, says long-term care director

Rob Bissonnette is the executive director of a London long-term care home, and has brought Needham in to speak with residents and their families on multiple occasions. 

In his eyes, the importance of having those conversations early and frequently has a lot to do with the rest of someone's life rather than the end of it, he said. 

"We don't want to talk necessarily about death. We want to talk about life, and a person should have a right to make decisions about how they will be celebrated," said Bissonnette

Bissonnette said he's seen countless residents lose their ability to make decisions for themselves to deteriorating health, without making decisions about how the rest of their life and the time after their death will play out. 

"When you're close to death is the absolute wrong time to have the talks. It should begin on the first day someone arrives in a home," he said.

Residents who reflect on their death and plan accordingly report being relieved, in higher spirits and as if they've gotten an important decision-making out of the way, Bissonnette said. 

Bissonnette also said they often have a chance to reflect and reminisce on their lives, which can prove peaceful for many.

Long term care home director Rob Bissonette standing in a funeral chapel
Long term care home director Rob Bissonnette says his professional relationship with Needham has resulted in many of his residents experiencing a sense of peace and preparedness when it comes to thinking about death. (Alessio Donnini/CBC News)

Those reactions to finally considering death are noted by Needham. He said the sense of trust people place in him to direct those difficult conversations is transformational for him as well.

"It's wonderful and powerful to interact with people that way. To see the way they respond, the questions they have, the fact that you can get them laughing and crying, all at the same time."

Moving forward, Needham said he plans to press on with his quest to destigmatize death by continuing with speak to all those who will listen.

As for the way he wants to be remembered after he dies, sharing those plans often lightens the tone of the conversations he has with people facing the end of theirs.

Those plans involve sport shooting, Needham said.

"I want my ashes to be loaded into shotgun shells, and blasted over the gun range at 1,200 feet per second."

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alessio Donnini

Reporter/Editor

Alessio Donnini covers local news online and on the air for CBC News in London. He covers breaking news and writes about municipal politics, crime, and technology. Since graduating from Fanshawe College, he's also worked in Toronto and Windsor. Alessio can be heard on weekday afternoons reading the news for Afternoon Drive, and can be reached at alessio.donnini@cbc.ca