Direct Cremation Doesn’t Have to Mean a Small Goodbye

There is often a quiet worry that families carry when they’ve chosen, or are thinking about choosing, a direct cremation for someone they love.

The worry sounds something like this: Does choosing a direct cremation mean we can’t gather to say farewell? Does it somehow make the send-off feel less?

The answer, is no. For many, a direct cremation opens the door to a send-off that is more personal and more unique without any of the usual restrictions.

My Own Family

Twenty-three years ago, my step grandfather chose to have a direct cremation. At the time, it was virtually unheard of. Most people had never even come across the concept. He knew what he wanted, and he was clear about it, and we respected that completely.

But some members of our family found it hard. There was a real sense of having been cheated out of the chance to honour him, to gather, to say goodbye properly. And because we respected his wishes to the letter, we didn’t hold a gathering afterwards either. We simply carried our grief privately, each of us in our own way, without the comfort of coming together.

I’ve thought about that a lot over the years. He made a choice that was right for him, and I hold nothing but respect for it. But I also know what was missing. That collective exhale. The stories shared over a cup of tea. The moment when someone says something that makes everyone laugh through their tears, and suddenly the room feels a little lighter.

People are beginning to understand that a direct cremation and a meaningful gathering are not mutually exclusive. They never were. But the awareness simply wasn’t there yet years ago. And in many ways, the awareness is only just beginning. 

The conversation around direct cremation has shifted in a way that has changed things for families like mine. Given the choice, my family know that I would like a direct cremation and a BIG party in a field with a bonfire, music, questionable singing and a lot of bubbly!

Don’t get me wrong, direct cremation isn’t for everyone. It’s a choice but in making the choice know that you don’t have to leave out a gathering. 

The Numbers Tell Their Own Story

Direct cremation is no longer a niche choice. It’s becoming one of the most common ways people in the UK choose to say goodbye, and the statistics are striking.

Back in 2019, direct cremations accounted for just 3% of all funerals in the UK. By 2023, that had risen to one in five, 20% of all funerals, according to the SunLife Cost of Dying Report 2024. And when you look at funeral plans being taken out right now, the shift is even more pronounced. The National Association of Funeral Plan Providers’ 2024 report found that 62% of all funeral plans sold were direct cremation plans. That’s nearly two thirds.

So why are so many people choosing a direct cremation?

Cost is a big part of it. In 2025, the average simple attended funeral costs around £4,285. A direct cremation averages around £1,597. That’s a saving of almost £2,700, which is significant for most families, especially when you factor in everything else that comes with losing someone.

But here’s what I find really interesting. When SunLife asked families why they had arranged a direct cremation, 39% said it was because their loved one had specifically asked for it. 30% said it was simpler to organise. And 27% said it was quicker. Cost was a factor, but it wasn’t the only one, and for many it wasn’t even the main one.

Researchers at the University of Bath’s Centre for Death and Society have been looking at this shift too. They found that people are increasingly rejecting the idea that a funeral has to follow a set format, and that those who do things differently often report feeling more in control of their grief. As one of the study’s researchers put it, by separating the cremation from the commemoration, families get to decide who attends and what it looks and feels like, rather than working within the rigid structure of a service that might not suit anyone in the room.

And most importantly for Celebrants, research from SunLife found that nearly 90% of families who chose a direct cremation still held a separate ceremony, wake, or gathering afterwards. The need to come together hasn’t gone away. It never does. People are just finding a better, more meaningful way to do it.

A traditional funeral service at a crematorium typically gives families around 30 to 45 minutes. That’s it. You’re working within fixed slots at a fixed venue with a typical format. There’s no time for five eulogies. No space to pause and let the laughter settle. No room to let the ceremony breathe and actually feel like the person you’re there to remember.

A memorial or celebration of life following a direct cremation has none of those constraints. None.

You can hold it anywhere. A village hall, a beach, a garden, a favourite pub, a woodland clearing, a cricket ground, a gallery, someone’s sitting room. 

You can hold it on a date that actually works for the people who matter most, giving friends time to travel from far away, giving the family time to grieve before they stand up in front of everyone, giving you the weeks you might need to pull together something that truly reflects who this person was. It doesn’t have to take place in the weeks after death. In fact, for some, it’s better to wait some time until the initial shock has subsided and you have more time to plan something meaningful. 

You can take as long as you need. There’s no next booking waiting. No clock ticking. If five people want to speak, they can all speak. If you want to play the whole of a favourite album, play it. If you want to end with everyone walking to the beach and watching the sunset together, do exactly that.

This is the freedom that a direct cremation gives you. Not a lesser goodbye. A bigger one. A truer one.

Five Ways to Honour Someone Who Has Had a Direct Cremation

1. Choose a place that meant something to them

Forget the idea that a meaningful gathering has to happen in a formal venue. Think instead about where this person was most themselves. A beach they walked every Sunday. Their allotment. The garden where they grew everything. The pub where they held court. The club where they danced. A favourite woodland or hilltop with a view they always pointed out to anyone who would listen.

Taking people to that place, even simply, even briefly, creates something powerful. Being where they were happy, standing in the landscape of their life, brings them close in a way that four walls and a lectern rarely can. And with no time restrictions hanging over you, you can stay as long as you need to.

2. Build a ceremony without a clock ticking

One of the loveliest things I’ve seen at celebrations of life following a direct cremation is what happens when families aren’t rushing. Stories come out that would never have made it into a 30-minute slot. Someone who didn’t think they’d be able to speak surprises themselves and everyone else. A piece of music gets played all the way through instead of faded out at the two-minute mark. There’s space for silence, for laughter, for both at once.

A celebrant can work with you to create something completely unique, something that tells the whole story, includes the voices that matter, and actually feels like the person you’re gathered to remember. Without the pressure of a crematorium slot, you can take the time to get it right.

3. Make the ashes part of something meaningful

A direct cremation means the ashes are returned to you, and what you choose to do with them can become a beautiful act of remembrance in itself. 

You could incorporate a scattering ceremony into your gathering, somewhere they loved, surrounded by the people who loved them. You could plant a memorial tree or garden together, making something living and growing out of the occasion. Some families commission a piece of memorial jewellery, have the ashes pressed into a vinyl record of a favourite song, or create a glass piece or memorial stone that becomes a lasting part of the home. These are not gimmicks. They are ways of continuing to honour someone, long after the gathering is over.

4. Invite everyone to contribute

One of the biggest gifts you can give people at a gathering like this is the chance to participate. Ask guests to bring a photograph, an object that connects them to your person, or a written memory. You could create a memory table, a memory jar, or a book that goes home with the family. You could open the floor and invite anyone who wants to speak to stand up, and in my experience, once one person starts, others follow. People want to tell their stories. They just need permission and a room that feels safe enough to do it.

5. Make it joyful, on purpose

This is probably the single most transformative shift in thinking I’d encourage any family to make. A gathering to remember someone does not have to be sombre to be sincere. It does not have to be quiet to be respectful. If your person was funny, let it be funny. If they loved dancing, put on the music and let people dance. If they were obsessed with a particular food, serve it. If they had a signature drink, pour it. If they were known for a ridiculous catchphrase or a terrible joke, put it in the order of service and let everyone groan together.

Joy at a memorial is not inappropriate. It is the fullest form of remembrance there is. It says: we knew you, we loved you, and we are keeping you alive in exactly the way you’d want.

In Real Life

I want to share a few glimpses of what these gatherings can actually look like, because I think sometimes people need to see the possibilities before they can imagine them for themselves.

In recent years I have had the honour of working with a number of families who have created ceremonies to celebrate a loved one following a direct cremation. Each one has been completely different. Each one has been completely right.

One that stays with me was a ceremony where every single person came in their pyjamas. That was what the person who had died loved most. Pyjamas were their happy place, their comfort, their personality in fabric form. And so the whole room was full of people in their dressing gowns and slippers and soft cotton prints, laughing and crying and telling stories, and it was one of the most human rooms I have ever stood in.

I have led gatherings in favourite pubs, where the bar was open and the person’s most-loved songs played between tributes. I have led ceremonies in hotels, in village halls full of mismatched chairs and homemade food, and in people’s own front rooms, just a handful of family gathered around the fireplace with a candle and a photograph and an hour to remember someone who mattered enormously. Every single one of those spaces was exactly right, because it was chosen with love and intention rather than convenience.

Recently I helped a family to say goodbye to their loved one in their favourite pub. We toasted him with his favourite sherry. Throughout the afternoon we gathered memories to put in ‘Grandad’s Box’ for his grandchildren to cherish – and for them to decorate the box themselves. And we sent grandad off in a flurry of bubbles which is just as he would have wanted. 

That’s what’s available to you. That’s what a direct cremation makes possible.

A Final Thought

Direct cremation is not a lesser choice. It is not an opt-out from grief, or from community, or from the proper business of saying goodbye. It is a practical and increasingly popular decision that, far from closing the door on a meaningful send-off, often opens it wider than families expected.

The love doesn’t live in the format of the cremation. It lives in what you do next. And what you do next, where you go, who you gather, what you say, what you play, how long you stay, all of that is completely yours to shape in a way that is meaningful and unique to you and yours.