by Have you made a major career change in mid-life? Get in touch at money@telegraph.co.uk
At the age of 16, after sound advice from his father to learn a trade, Brian Ibbetson began a 44-year career as a gas engineer.
But when he reached 60, he had been running his business for 12 years, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to fit boilers himself. In addition, he needed a new van and his certificate needed to be renewed – both would take time and money to fix. He had a decision to make – did he want to keep doing this for another five years until he quit?
For Ibbetson, it felt as if “the planets were aligning” and signaling that it was time to move on.
His mind was made when his wife showed him an advert for a part-time job – at funeral directors. He knew it was right for him – many years of house calls had shaped him as a people person, and this would definitely be a personal job.
“It’s random, but I liked it. It seems like a very funny job to suddenly be involved in, but I felt I could do it,” he says.
‘There is no training’
Ibbetson began winding down his business and began working for a firm on a zero-hours contract. He was thrown in deep – “there is no training; you learn on the job” – but you liked it. After eight months, he moved on to Swindon Co-operative Funeralcare and has been there for the past two years.
When Ibbetson announced his career change, the response was mixed. “People who know me and my character said they can see me doing it,” he says – this included his son, Connor. It’s no wonder, though, that many people don’t know how to respond to the news that funerals and dead bodies are in their 9 to 5.
“They might think I’m weird,” he says. “People have laughed at me because they’re embarrassed and don’t know what to say.”
Ibbetson doesn’t mind, though, and can see the funny side: “It’s great dinner conversation when someone asks you what you do. They don’t expect it! Then you have 20 questions to answer.”
He now works as a funeral director, a step up from the position of funeral assistant. A typical day includes checking the deceased’s premises for any signs of deterioration, cleaning the car and arranging the flowers. He double checks that he has the right person in the car on the right day.
“It sounds basic, but these things can go wrong,” he says. In busier periods, he may work four funerals a day – although this is rare, two funerals a day is more common.
‘We try to give people as much trouble as possible’
Many funerals are still traditional, with guests dressed in black, but each service is unique, and Ibbetson was also part of the more unusual ones. In particular – an Only Fools and Horses themed funeral – “there was a themed coffin and Del Boy’s yellow van with the hearse in tow” (shown in the video below).
Ibbetson and his colleagues went the extra mile, dressing up as Batman and Robin from the iconic episode where Del and Rodney are invited to what they believe is a fancy dress party. “It got a big round of applause,” he said, “the family came in to thank us profusely for doing that. We try to make it as individual as we can, to make it as great as we can.” For Ibbetson, the effort by those close to him to thank him and his team is the highlight of his career change.
Of course, there are many dark parts of the job – especially dealing with outgoing calls when someone dies in the middle of the night. Seeing and dealing with death has become “second nature”, but Ibbetson admits that “you don’t forget the first one [dead body] you see”.
He worked out his own coping mechanisms along the way, such as parking 20 minutes from work so he can walk in to prepare himself, and the walk back to clear his head.
‘You have to have a lot of compassion’
Ibbetson is very familiar with dealing with people during the most difficult day of their lives. He describes the intimacy and the enormous responsibility of his job: “When I’m taking the deceased away, I’m taking someone I love. They could have been married for 60 years. I say to the family: ‘I will take care of them because they are mine’.
“You have to have a lot of compassion. These people are putting a lot of trust in you – you’re taking away their favorite possession.”
Two years into his career, there are still difficult days. One particularly difficult day recently was the burial of a dead infant – “I was crying by the graveside”. Perhaps surprisingly for a man whose work you might expect to be desensitised, Ibbetson admits to crying “at the drop of a hat – I’m often outdone by one of the gang.”
His job helped him come to grips with the notion of death. “I’m not afraid to die. I know what happens at the end and I’ve seen a lot of it,” he says.
Despite his insider knowledge, Ibbetson doesn’t want a big affair for his funeral.
“I don’t want any hassle. Put me in the box, as cheap as you can, and put the rest behind the bar. Those are my instructions.”
