Talking About Death Over Christmas Lunch (Yes… Really)

A Gentle Guide to Death Literacy Conversations This Festive Season

Every year, the festive season rolls around and brings with it a uniquely Australian mix of delights and chaos: sun-warmed pavlova sliding slowly off its own plate, someone having a post-food-slump nap under the air-con, the soundtrack of classic-catch splashes in the pool & the ongoing family debate about how long the Christmas ham actually lasts in 40-degree heat.

But it also brings something powerful and rare:
We are all, miraculously, in the same place at the same time.

And that, my loves, is an opportunity.

Because if we can survive a family game of Pictionary, political discussions with Uncle Bruce, or explaining TikTok to Grandma (again)… we can absolutely survive a conversation about death.

Yes, death.
Yes, at Christmas.
And no - it doesn’t have to be grim.
In fact, it can be funny, loving, clarifying and deeply connecting.

This is death literacy in its most human form: real people, talking honestly, with a bit of humour and a whole lot of care.

Let’s walk it together.


Why Talk About Death During the Holidays?

Because it’s practical.
Because it’s loving.
Because a decade supporting dozens of bereaved families has shown me: the only thing that makes grief harder… is guess work.

Most families avoid the topic until they’re in crisis. But when the festive season softens us - when the big emotions sit closer to the surface - sometimes it's the perfect foundation for truth, tenderness and planning.

It’s not about doom and gloom.
It’s about clarity, love and making things easier for the people we adore.

And if you want to know the real secret sauce?
Talking about death is one of the most life-affirming things we can do.

How to Begin: Gentle, Playful, Totally Doable Conversation Starters

1. Blame Me (Honestly, Please Do)

Start with:
“So, I follow this deathcare lady in the Blue Mountains and she said we should talk about our death wishes at Christmas…”
Cue laughter. Door = open.

I'm happy to be your scapegoat all festive season long. Bring it.

2. Keep It Light + Keep It Real

Begin with something low-stakes and even fun:
“Right. If you live to 103 and die peacefully in your sleep… what song do you want playing at your funeral?”

Expect surprising answers.
Expect arguments about whose taste is superior.
Watch Uncle Shane suddenly reveal he wants Beyoncé.

Perfect. You’re already talking.

3. Make It About Love

Because it is.
Say something like:
“I want to make things easier for you one day - so I’d really love you to know what matters to me.”

This lands differently.
Soft. True.
An invitation rather than a confrontation.

4. State the Awkward Thing Out Loud

Normalise the discomfort before it even has a chance to grow.
“This feels weird, right? Cool. Let’s do it anyway.”

Humour diffuses tension like magic.
No experts. No perfect scripts. Just people who care about each other, doing a hard thing kindly.

5. Go First

Lead with your own clarity - even something tiny.

“One thing I’d really like when I die is ______.”
It could be:
“A cardboard coffin.”
“A small funeral in the garden of my favourite bookshop.”
“Play Fleetwood Mac.”
“NOT a fancy coffin, put the money into top shelf tequila instead.”
“Absolutely no slide show.”
“Actually… yes please, a slide show. But hot photos ONLY.”

When you go first, others soften.
Your vulnerability becomes permission for theirs.

6. You Don’t Need All the Answers

These conversations don’t have to tie every ribbon neatly.
They're not about completing a checklist.
They’re about opening a door.

Even ONE insight is a gift your future selves will be grateful for.


Fun, Surprisingly Deep Activities for the Table

✨ The “Three Wishes” Game

Go around the table and share:

  1. One song you’d want at your funeral

  2. One way you’d love to be remembered

  3. One thing you absolutely do not want

(It gets hilarious. And beautiful. And occasionally emotional in the best way.)

✨ Ask the Question-of-the-Night

Put this into the conversation like an hors d’oeuvre:
“What matters most to you at the very end of your life?”
People surprise themselves with their answers.

✨ Future Love Letters

Invite everyone to say one sentence they hope future generations know about them.
It becomes a gorgeous practice of legacy-building without ever using the word legacy.


Why This Matters (Especially Now)

Death literacy isn’t about preparing for doom. It’s about equipping ourselves with understanding, compassion, and agency. It’s about making sure no one is left guessing in their darkest moment, ensuring our wishes are known, and giving our families the gift of clarity. It’s about loving each other fiercely and practically - through this life and beyond.

These conversations don’t take anything away from the holidays - they deepen them. They ground us in what matters: love, connection, meaning, story.

And if there’s ever a time for that… it’s now.

May your conversations be full of truth, humour, courage and connection.
And may you feel the quiet relief of naming what matters.

You’re not doing it alone.
I’m right here with you.

Only love,

Amy
Interfaith Minister, Deathcare Worker, Funeral Director, Human Who Cannot Resist a Festive Cheese Board