Death Café

On 31 January I woke up to the news that Marianne Faithfull had died. I already had Death Café in my diary for later that morning. Mementos mori were proliferating. My own ever present obsession with ‘dead uns’ (that is how my spouse refers to my genealogy research), the inevitable result of ageing i.e. more people you know die, and then the welter of celebrity deaths reported in the news in recent months. We’ve lost Maggie Smith, David Lynch and Shelley Duvall and now Marianne.   There is definitely a spike in road deaths and drownings over the summer holidays. Then the toll of warfare and climate related disaster just grows…

Death is more certain than taxes, eh, Donald?

When it is coming for us is unpredictable although the online mortality calculator Death Clock says I will die at age 73 years, 9 months and 25 days.  Better get a wriggle on with travel plans and memoir writing.  While I am skeptical about the accuracy of this prediction, the message is carpe deim and get my affairs in order…

That is also the message of Death Café, the two hour get together held this week at the Wagga Wagga Library.

Poster advertising the  Death Cafe event

When I saw it advertised, averse as I am to euphemism, I did wonder if it wasn’t a bit of a blunt way to market an end of life planning event. I realise now that the phrase ‘death camp’ may also have been echoing somewhere in the back of my mind. But the phrases on the poster: ‘no agenda’ and ‘discuss things that are on your mind about death and dying’ appealed. I have been procrastinating about finalising my will and power of attorney for too long. Going to this workshop might galvanize me into action.

Numbers weren’t huge. At first I mistook the journo and photographer from The Daily Advertiser for participants. Logic dictated otherwise. They were both in their 30s and male, whereas the bona fide attendees were all women and, with the exception of a social worker and a palliative care worker, in our 60s and 70s.

Jocelyn Mason who convened the café is cheerful, down to earth and perfectly equipped to run such an event having worked in the funeral industry for over 25 years and witnessed a wealth of death and dispatch related issues. She got us to introduce ourselves and say what we were hoping to get out of the two hours. One woman is currently nursing a dying husband and needed practical advice and reassurance. Some of us wanted to check we were doing the right thing re. our wills and to ask about funeral arrangements. There are four funeral directors in Wagga Wagga, it costs $6.5 K to get a burial plot, eco burials are available here. Nearly everyone had a poignant or frustrating experience associated with the loss of a loved one to relate. Dying intestate or with a will that challenges interpretation or implementation were common difficulties relatives had to face.

One person epitomized cognitive dissonance as no matter how strongly or frequently the facts around dying intestate, leaving one’s body to science or qualifying for a pauper’s burial were explained she was adamant in voicing her belief that all three were straightforward available options.

Jocelyn Mason, Jan Pittard and Vicki Bowles immediately after the workshop (source The Daily Advertsiser newspaper)

Most of us though left the café with greater clarity around preparing for the inevitable. One of Jocelyn’s wise tips was to consolidate all information about insurance, superannuation, online passwords, arrangements for pets etc. in a single document that is readily accessible to your executor and family members. She offered a template for preparing this. A similar, related document that contains your funerary wishes such as music and reading choices and any anecdotes you would like shared  is helpful guidance for  relatives and may ensure an uncringeworthy commemoration.

Jocelyn plans to offer further death cafes in the coming months in Wagga Wagga. They are happening elsewhere across the country too. Death can be a subject avoided by many with women more likely to be proactive in planning. I would encourage participation whether it seems immediately relevant to you or not. There is nothing negative about being informed and if death is a great leveler, death talk is a great source of affinity.

 

Parlez vous Francais a la Wagga Wagga?

It was not long after we settled in Wagga Wagga, the town so good they named it twice though only ever utter half its name, that we became aware of the distinctly continental flavour of many of its small businesses. Indeed Wagga boasts an entire Parisian ‘arrondissement’ in the northernmost part of town, known logically enough as ‘the Paris end’! The location of Wagga’s former Chinatown and of its only Spanish Mission style commercial building, the upper reaches of Fitzmaurice Street, show unmistakable evidence of  l’influence Francaise. Many ‘boutique’ shops are located there: Knights delicatessen with its terrine and camembert, the Circa 1929 day spa, a chandelier hanging in its foyer, as well as the café with the oh so French name, Uneke!

The Uneke Lounge has a totally unique spelling (source: TripAdvisor)

The street was named in 1849 by Colonial Surveyor-General, Sir Thomas Mitchell after one of his fellow-officers in the 95th Regiment of Foot (Pied), John Fitzmaurice. Despite sounding Scottish, Fitzmaurice had served in the Pyrenees, Nivelle and Toulouse, so his French credentials are impeccable. Mitchell was merely exercising a subtlety that has informed the naming of Wagga enterprises since his time, not all of them confined to the city’s Paris end.

For my first couple of years here I got my hair done at Salon Christé in the chic South City retail complex. It is located cheek by jowl with that phenomenal European marketing success, Aldi and has le magasin du articles des rejets and viandes de qualité du South City as companion businesses! The local business directory did let Francophiles down though by listing it as Salon Christ, probably a sop to Wagga’s huge devout Christian population.

It's official - Wagga is the 'Bible Belt' of New South Wales

A favourite haunt in our early days was Café Niché in Coleman Street (now sadly re-named The Brew). There was clearly a two for one special on acute accents when they arranged their signage. They served such authentic French delicacies as coffee with milk (cafe au lait) and ham and cheese toasties (Croque Monsieur) and had a chien-friendly jardin out the back.

Operating for several years in Baylis Street was Cache a cafeteria-style eatery that also contained meeting and conference facilities and accommodation on the first floor. One sad jour a combination of Wagga summer heat and the operation of a clothes drier caused un feu to break out in the premises and it was closed for some time. Attempts to re-invent the business as a chocolatier /patisserie were in exactly the right esprit but had short lived success. While the patriot in me applauds their use of Florence Broadhurst wallpaper perhaps Isadore Leroy designs would have been safer. But as this business, in contrast to Café Niché, completely omitted the acute accent on their name, their attention to detail was always clearly lacking.

Blogger's daughter nonchalantly poses avec beret in front of the Artisan Baker

Truly attaining Parisian standards is the Artisan Baker in Morgan Street which makes wonderful tartes, croissants and pain. Its slogan ‘So French, So Fresh’ is reassuring as is the inclusion of the mots ‘boulangerie’ and 'patisserie' on its window and website. While I applaud such discretion following as it does the lead of Sir Thomas Mitchell, would it not be in the business's interest to re-brand as Boulangerié, Patisserié et Café Formidablé de Wollundré?

STOP PRESS: Wagga also has a French Choir, a branch of L'Academie Francaise and an annual French film festival. Now if we just had a French restaurant...