Australia Embraces Living Funerals to Celebrate Before Goodbye

When Kath's partner Nigel decided to access voluntary assisted dying, they threw him a party he'd never forget—complete with KFC, birthday cake, and 60 people who loved him.

The Brisbane couple hosted a "goodbye birthday bash" in their backyard the day before Nigel's death at age 51. Three years into their relationship, his terminal skin cancer had given them an impossible timeline, but they refused to let grief overshadow their final moments together.

"He was going to do it on his terms and go when he felt that he couldn't fight any more," Kath says. Friends dropped by throughout the day to hug him, swap stories, and create final memories. By evening, Nigel was exhausted but told Kath it was all worth it.

Living funerals are emerging across Australia as people seek more meaningful ways to say goodbye. Unlike traditional funerals where families gather after someone dies, these celebrations happen while the person can still laugh, listen, and feel the love surrounding them.

University of Melbourne anthropologist Cindy Stocken says these gatherings have no rulebook. Some people host backyard barbecues, others organize beach gatherings or intimate dinners. The common thread is simple: giving people time to travel from far away and connect while their loved one is still present.

The practice has been popular in Japan since the 1990s, where "seizenso" ceremonies take organizational pressure off families. South Korea has embraced similar traditions. Now Australia is catching up, creating its own version of these compassionate rituals.

Why This Inspires

Living funerals give dying people control over their final chapter while easing anxiety for everyone involved. University of Sydney professor Alex Broom says these celebrations allow better deaths through acceptance and commemoration.

Regina took the concept even further. In good health, she hosted her own funeral in Sydney in 2024 after reading about South Korean living funerals. She invited 40 friends and family to her inner-west home to practice saying goodbye and spark conversations about what matters most.

Kath says many friends told her how grateful they felt for that last afternoon with Nigel. In a world where many deaths come suddenly and without warning, they received a gift most people never get: the chance to say everything that mattered while he could still hear it.

"As much as it was very, very sad, it was good to see him happy, joking and telling stories," Kath remembers. Those final moments of laughter and connection have become her most comforting memories.