DEATH is always an affront to my sensibilities. As a nation we are not good at talking about dying.

I remember a few years ago when we had complaints from staff about at Dying Matters poster in our main entrance.

One day last week, or should I say one early morning at about 2am, I was called to support a family whose relative had died. The patient, active fit and well, had been in hospital for two weeks and was only mid-60s.

The relatives were angry, sad, shocked and everything else you can imagine. And here was this poor patient. Peaceful but lifeless. It was an affront.

And then, in the afternoon of that same day, I had a funeral of a baby. It was a burial and again the parents were riven with shock and sadness at this tragedy. To see a little white coffin go into the ground leaves you in no doubt of the reality and starkness of death.

Now I am well aware that coronavirus has brought death to the fore. Last year, as we watched the figures on the news rising, death took centre stage – but in some ways it was a bit remote to many of us.

Historically, however, 50 years ago families would welcome their dead relatives back home to their front room for a time before the funeral; and some traditions and cultures do that now.

That meant that the entire family, children included, could see the reality of death. In contrast to this, my guess is that many of us now living have never seen a dead person.

In my role as Chaplain, I have found that the presence of death makes me realise the value of life. Dying is the final reality from which none of us escape, but seeing this can change how you live.

Valuing the days; being grateful for every breath; making the most of the time while you can. And, as a Christian, I believe that the tragedy of death is not the end of the story, and that there is a better life to come.