{"id":4416,"date":"2022-05-19T11:26:18","date_gmt":"2022-05-19T01:26:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.picaluna.com\/?p=4416"},"modified":"2024-03-22T20:25:18","modified_gmt":"2024-03-22T09:25:18","slug":"a-grieving-mother","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.picaluna.com\/a-grieving-mother\/","title":{"rendered":"A Grieving Mother"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Wendi Murray is a funeral and wedding celebrant based in Sydney.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The following is an account of my personal experience as a grieving mother and a funeral celebrant. On this particular journey, those identities could have found themselves on a collision course; thanks to Picaluna Sydney<\/a> and The Last Hurrah in Melbourne, that was not the case. In fact, as heart breaking as this whole experience has been, those two entities provided a space for healing and a place for learning. My deepest gratitude is spilling out of me with the words I type.   <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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My 49-year-old son, my beautiful boy, on the morning of Thursday 18th November 2021, as fate would decree, found himself with enough time to hang back at home with his family in Ascot Vale before his first job that morning. He got to actually say goodbye to his 14-year-old daughter, Phoebe and 11-year-old son, Jack, before they left for school that day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That never happened, as a rule. Nor did the opportunity for Brenden to join his beautiful wife, Emma, on her daily walk. That day it did, then he walked out the front door, waved to Emma and drove off to work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Brenden was never to walk through that front door again. At around 10am that morning, our beautiful boy was involved in a horrific workplace accident that he was not able to survive. One awkward move resulted in the death of a most amazing human being. Brenden was so very much loved and revered by every person who knew him, He had been elevated to ‘legend’ status by the close community surrounding their family. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Here’s the thing. We, his closest family, had no idea of how highly he was regarded or what he had done for or brought to the neighbours, the kids he coached cricket and footy, the siblings of those kids, his teammates, his work crew, or the barista at his favourite coffee shop. We would probably never have learnt of his generosity and leadership, his kind heart, his empathy, and his endless spreadsheets, if it wasn’t for the opportunity to honour him with a funeral befitting his beautiful spirit. And that’s where Picaluna<\/a> shone through.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Nobody who hasn’t lost a child, no matter what age, can ever imagine what that initial phone call or knock at the door, feels like. The drive to Melbourne the day after the accident is still a foggy memory but the one thing that did kick in, was my experience as a funeral celebrant, and the determination to give my son Brenden a Picaluna<\/a> style sendoff he’d be proud to be a part of, actually, the star of; he was a little vain, our beautiful boy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instinctively, I knew that Emma wouldn’t, at this early stage, be up to making funeral plans<\/a>, so I called Picaluna to seek their assistance in putting me in touch with a funeral director<\/a> in Melbourne who would emulate Picaluna’s ethos, their culture, and their values. I needed to be sure that whoever we engaged would be open to the needs and wants of Emma and the family. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Having worked as a Picaluna celebrant, I was confident that they would understand and follow through with a funeral director<\/a> they would have been happy to have working for them. And they did. I was put in touch that day, with Kimba, from The Last Hurrah. What a blessing. One phone call was all it took for me to feel comfortable that Kimba and her team would be a perfect fit for us, so after getting Emma’s permission for me to “handle all that” I booked The Last Hurrah, and arrangements were made for a face-to-face meeting with my daughter, Karen, Emma, and me to plan a cremation or burial, a funeral or memorial service. Whatever Emma thought Brenden would want to happen, I was going to make that happen. <\/p>\n\n\n\n