Why One Ceremony Is Rarely Enough

A birth doesn't happen in a day, and neither does a death.

We've inherited the idea that a passage gets one gathering ~ a baby shower, a wedding, a funeral. One afternoon, one set of speeches, and then everyone goes home and the person living through it is left to carry the rest alone.

But ask anyone who has become a mother, or lost a parent, or watched someone they love choose their own dying ~ the moment we gathered for was one point on a much longer line.

The Arc We Don't Mark

Consider what actually happens when a baby comes.

There's the pregnancy, with its fear and its waiting. There's the birth itself. And then there's the year that follows ~ the disorientation, the grief for who you were before, the slow arrival of who you're becoming. Anthropologists call that last part matrescence. Most of us have no word for it at all, and certainly no ceremony.

A mother blessing honours the woman before she gives birth. A baby welcoming honours the child who has arrived. A matrescence ceremony honours the woman who has been remade. Three different thresholds, three different people being acknowledged, across one passage.

The same is true at the other end of a life.

A living funeral gathers people while the person can still hear what's said. A memorial holds the shock of the death itself. A celebration of life, months later, does something different again ~ it asks what this person's absence has taught us, once the casseroles have stopped arriving.

Why Multiple Ceremonies Does Something a Single Day Cannot

When ceremonies are designed as an arc, each one knows what came before.

The words spoken at a mother blessing can be returned to at the matrescence ceremony a year later. An object placed on an altar at a living funeral can reappear at the memorial. The thread holds, and the people gathering feel it holding.

This is also honest about how transformation works. We don't cross a threshold once. We cross it, look back, doubt it, and cross again.

I've supported a woman through a pregnancy loss, creating a ceremony to acknowledge her grief and anger. We've then come together in community to support her as she prepares to try again. Finally, we've created a larger ceremonial gathering called a Mother's Blessing, when she finds herself pregnant again and wants the wisdom and support of her village to surround her during this time.

I've also walked alongside a family as their loved one received a terminal diagnosis, creating a healing ceremony by the sea for them to process this news. We then co-created a Living Funeral while he was still alive to appreciate the love and storytelling that emerged. Finally, one year later, this same family hired me to co-create a Death Anniversary ceremony, honouring one year without him and weaving the rituals from the previous two ceremonies into this final piece.

Where to Begin

You don't have to know the whole arc at the start. Most people don't. You begin with the moment in front of you ~ the one that's pressing. And then, sometimes months later, you notice another threshold arriving and you realize you'd like to mark that one too.

If you're moving through a season of change rather than a single day, that's worth saying out loud when we first speak. It changes what we design. You can read more about celebrant services, including ceremonies designed as an arc across a season of life.