Talking About My Death
A Conversation That Matters.
This past week, something unexpected happened. My eldest son called me, which isn’t out of the ordinary, but the direction our conversation took was. After chatting about his plans to visit, he surprised me by asking, “Dad, who are you? How would you want yourself talked about at your funeral?”
He had just attended the funeral of a friend’s father, and it had affected him deeply. The friend’s father, an active eighty-year-old, was killed while cycling, having been hit by a car.
The funeral service made him think not only about loss but about what is said—and what is left unsaid about someone’s life when they’re no longer here to tell their own story. And so we talked, not just about how I want to be remembered, but about the deep things: life, death, and the legacies we leave behind.
I was struck by how unusual that conversation with my son was. In our culture, death is rarely discussed, especially not our own. When the subject does come up, it’s often met with discomfort. We change the subject, reassure each other that death is far off for us, or dismiss it with, “Oh, you’ll be around for a long time yet.” But as I have learnt from conducting many funerals, death is not something we can ignore or escape. It is part of life, as much as birth, growth, and everything in between are.
In the Bible, we see that Jesus didn’t avoid talking about his death. In the Gospel of Mark, there are three distinct moments, found in chapters eight, nine and ten, where Jesus openly tells his disciples that he is going to die. He speaks about his death plainly and clearly, and yet, each time, the disciples respond in ways all too familiar to us—they deny it, deflect it, or simply fail to understand it.
Peter tries to shut down the conversation altogether. The others are too afraid to ask what Jesus means. Some even change the subject, focussing on other matters, wanting to avoid the reality of what Jesus is saying to them about his pending death.
It is easy to see ourselves in the disciples, isn’t it? When people we love try to talk to us about their own death, our first instinct is to reassure them, “Don’t talk like that!” or “You’ll be fine.” We don’t want to confront the reality that one day, they won’t be here, and yet, by avoiding those conversations, we miss the opportunity to talk about the things that really matter with those we love the most—things like what kind of legacy we want to leave, how we hope to be remembered, and what gives us peace as we approach the end of our life’s journey.
The conversation with my son made me realise that, while talking about death can be uncomfortable, it is also a gift. It allows us to prepare, not just practically, but emotionally and spiritually, for the inevitable. It gives our loved ones clarity and direction for when the time of our death comes, ensuring they’re not left wondering what we would have wanted or, worse, regretting words they left unsaid.
But how do we start these conversations? Here are a few things I’ve learnt:
- Acknowledge the discomfort.
It’s okay to admit that talking about death feels strange. By saying that out loud, you take the pressure off yourself and your loved ones, making the conversation a little easier.
- Explain your intentions.
Make it clear that you’re not trying to be morbid or dramatic. You’re simply being practical and loving, ensuring that when your death comes, your family isn’t left guessing what you want said and done. While it’s important to share your wishes, I also believe in not being too prescriptive about funeral arrangements—after all, funerals are for the living as much as they are for the dead, a time for loved ones to find comfort and closure in a way that feels right to them.
- Talk about your faith.
For many of us, our faith is central to how we view life and death so share with your family about how your beliefs give you peace and that you see death as a journey into something greater.
- Be patient.
Not everyone will be ready to talk about death right away, and that’s okay. Sometimes, these conversations take time, and it may take more than one attempt to achieve the depth of conversation you desire.
As a Christian, I do believe that death is not the end, but rather, the beginning of something far greater—life with God. I have no idea what that might look like, but my belief gives me great comfort. That’s something I want my family to understand. By talking openly about my own death, I hope to leave behind not just practical instructions but also a legacy of faith and peace.
So I encourage you to think about how you can start this conversation with your own family. It’s not easy, but it’s one of the most important conversations you’ll ever have. Death is part of the cycle of life and when we face the reality of death with openness and honesty, we can find peace, not just for ourselves, but for those we love.
And perhaps, like me, you’ll find that talking about death isn’t just about the end of life, it is also about living the good life now, fully and freely, with nothing left unsaid.
Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live.” (John 11: 25)
This is the gospel and it’s good news.
Brian Spencer, Minister, Waranga Uniting Churches