Can funerals be a ‘happy’ affair? Some families think so

Some Singaporeans, like the Wee family, are trying to find joy in grief by sending off their loved ones with personalized wakes and funerals. The Straits Times/Asia News Network

SINGAPORE – In life, Mr Wee Chwee Beng was an avid golfer who loved a day on the green with friends, rounded off with a big dinner and strong drink.

So, it was only fitting that the 81-year-old former trader was dressed accordingly for his final journey, in his favorite maroon trousers and cap, a club in hand and golf balls by his side, as if getting ready to tee off one last time.

“Golf has always been a big part of his life, so we thought that would be something he would like to be associated with. After all, a lot of his friends were his fellow golfers,” says his youngest son Thomas Wee, 48.

READ: Man awakes at funeral pyre, then declared dead

He describes his father, who died in August 2024 after a fall, as a livewire who created joy wherever he went and always made sure his friends were well taken care of.

To celebrate the full life he had lived, his family turned his wake into a colorful and interactive affair. There were photo collages of family holidays and nights out with friends, as well as an origami tree where visitors could pen well wishes. Whiskey, his favorite drink, was placed beside his portrait and served to guests, along with beer, to toast his memory.

“Though we are sad to see him go, the celebration of his life is not a sad week. I think he would want us to continue his legacy of bringing joy to people. He would have wanted them to be happy at his wake,” says the younger Mr Wee, who is the chief executive of Gleneagles Hospital.

READ: How American presidents have planned their own funerals

To send their father off in the style befitting his vibrant personality, the family engaged The Life Celebrant, a company that specializes in personalized funerals.

The late Mr Wee Chwee Beng’s wake paid tribute to his love for golf, drink and friends. PHOTO: THOMAS WEE

Its founder Angjolie Mei says the demand for services like hers is on the rise, with more people warming up to the idea that grief and joy, as well as celebration and mourning, can co-exist in the same space.

“Twenty years ago, when I first came into the industry, I always wondered why every funeral was the same. There was lots of crying and lots of chanting. Everyone was just going through the process. They were very void of things relevant to the deceased,” recalls the 44-year-old, who holds a certification in funeral direction from Mount Royal University in Canada.

“I thought it was a pity because when I sat down with my dad’s friends at his wake, they told me stories I never knew. I asked myself why can’t funerals be like that, a place where you can share the different roles a person played in their life.”

Her late father Ang Yew Seng, a pioneer in Singapore’s funeral industry, died in 2004 at 64 of renal failure. She quit her job at a logistics company soon after to help her mother run the business.

A life in a day

These days, photos and video montages at funerals have become commonplace, but Ms Mei wants to take things a step further by sprinkling in touches that capture a sense of the deceased’s personality.

For instance, karaoke to celebrate a music lover or ice cream to remember someone with a sweet tooth.

Relatives are also asked to compile a list of favorite songs of their late loved ones, and encouraged to share special memories, humorous incidents and sincere words about them.

The Wee family planned a personalized send-off for their father with the help of The Life Celebrant. PHOTO: THOMAS WEE

“I believe a funeral shouldn’t be a day in a lifetime, but a lifetime in a day,” says Ms Mei, who plans around 180 funerals a year for clients of all ages and religions.

She attributes the rise in personalized send-offs to changing demographics. “The decision-makers are now no longer the Pioneer Generation. Gen X-ers and millennials are more savvy and open-minded. Because of technology and social media, they’re exposed to the ways things can be done differently, and are embracing a type of farewell that they might find more meaningful.”

Likewise, veteran funeral director Roland Tay, 78, who founded Direct Funeral Services, has seen an increase in what he terms “happy” funerals.

In parts of China, these types of “xi sang” – as happy funerals are known in Chinese – commemorate those who lived to a ripe old age, usually over 90 or 100.

His daughter, the firm’s managing director Jenny Tay, 39, estimates that the company now plans around four to five such funerals each month. It is a stark shift from a decade ago, when all funerals were uniformly sombre.

She attributes this development to longer lifespans and heightened media exposure surrounding end-of-life processes like living funerals.

“Our generation is all about self-love and reflecting, so I think they have very different attitudes when it comes to commemorating life.”

At some of these “happy” send-offs, family members will wear red and celebrate with wine and desserts. Ms Tay even constructed a balloon arch once, for a 16-year-old boy who exceeded his life expectancy of 10 years.

As with funerals planned by Ms Mei, music plays an important role. Upbeat tunes such as Mamma Mia by Swedish pop group Abba, once considered inappropriate for such a solemn occasion, fill the halls of funeral parlours or wakes.

One of the songs performed at the wake of Ms Stella Thng’s 86-year-old father was Hong Kong singer Grace Chang’s Wo Yao Ni De Ai. In a video that has since been viewed over 600,000 times on Instagram, a singer from Singapore Funeral Live Band belts out the first few lines of the song, then points her microphone at the seated guests.

It is reminiscent of a concert performance, with the audience echoing the lyrics back to her, albeit softly.

“We very much wanted a happy funeral because my dad is very well-loved. It was his final party; we didn’t want it to be quiet,” the 48-year-old educator says of her father, who had seven daughters, 12 grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren.

Direct Funeral Services managing director Jenny Tay constructed a balloon arch and Mickey Mouse balloons for the late Ryan Song. PHOTO: DIRECT FUNERAL SERVICES via The Straits Times/Asia News Network

While she did not explicitly request upbeat songs, the music performed during her father’s three-day wake in April 2024 flowed organically, with the band playing a mix of his favorites and taking requests from relatives.

“We’re a family of tap dancers and musicians. We love the arts. We didn’t want the traditional getai style, but were looking for something my dad would have appreciated, so we liked the idea of a live band,” she says, adding that she and her sisters serenaded their father with his favorite song, American group The Cascades’ Rhythm Of The Rain, before bidding him farewell at Mandai Crematorium.

Singapore Funeral Live Band’s founder Alvin Khoo, 39, noticed the gap in the market when he attended the funeral of a friend’s aunt some five years ago.

He realized that the only forms of live music available were church bands or getai singers, and wanted to offer bereaved families another option – a group of professional musicians playing the kind of modern music one might find at a wedding or corporate event.

“Whenever I attend funerals, people are always crying, which is understandable. But I was thinking, what if there was something I could do to elevate the atmosphere, instead of making people feel worse?” says the musician, who set up his funeral-focused outfit four years ago.

He directs his singers to encourage the audience to respond by singing, clapping along, requesting songs or dedicating them to their loved ones.

Cathartic or crass?

However, finding musicians for his band proved difficult at the start. Fewer than a quarter of the 100 or so musicians Mr Khoo approached were willing to do it.

“It’s tough to find people who are open-minded enough to play at funerals. Plus, even when they agree to perform at a discount, it is still far more expensive than the market rate for funeral musicians,” he says, adding that his services can cost more than double a traditional band. His two-piece band charge $1,280 a session, while a quartet cost $2,080.

Moreover, their efforts do not always yield the expected results. The viral video of the band at Mr Thng’s wake, in particular, has divided netizens.

One user commented in Mandarin, “You sing so happily, but forget it is a funeral”, while another asked: “Aren’t you afraid of being punched by the family of the deceased?”

Mr Khoo remains unfazed. “We take online backlash with a pinch of salt. Whatever you do, there will be supporters and haters, especially if you’re doing something different. As long as you’re not harming people and your conscience is clear, it’s fine.”

The Singapore Funeral Live Band take song requests from gathered guests and encourages them to sing along to celebrate the deceased. PHOTO: LIANHE ZAOBAO via The Straits Times/Asia News Network

Ms Mei also had to contend with some raised eyebrows in the beginning. “When I started The Life Celebrant in 2010, people would ask me, what’s there to celebrate, why are you celebrating death?”

Then, as now, she is adamant that taking the sting out of death by focusing on the positive is the healthiest way to move forward.

She recalls attending a funeral at the Mount Vernon Columbarium Complex some 20 years ago. As the casket entered the furnace, the family screamed at the top of their lungs. Three people fainted.

“That was very traumatic, both for me and the family. And I asked myself, how did we end up with funerals like this?”

Then, in 2009, while on a 10-day funeral director exchange program at a funeral home in New Zealand, she encountered a different kind of service officiant by a funeral celebrant.

“I didn’t know anything about this old lady except that she loved pink. But at the service, I was able to hear her life story. And that was really beautiful for me, being able to walk out knowing who she was. There were tears, there was laughter, but everyone walked out of there feeling uplifted.”

She has since found that photographs and personal memorabilia can also help spark conversations about the deceased person, providing friends and relatives with a window into his or her quirks.

Defining happiness

Still, other industry players think that it will be a while before the majority of Singaporeans warm up to the idea of a “happy” funeral.

In an e-mail to ST, En Embrace Funeral Services pushed back against such a characterisation when asked if its team had observed a rise in funerals with celebratory elements.

Though the team has indeed received requests for upbeat music, lion dances and the toasting of wine, its spokesman was reluctant to describe the mood as “happy”, “as most are still very sad about the passing”.

Mr Calvin Tang, 48, assistant general manager of Singapore Casket, does not think the presence of loud or unusual elements such as lion or dragon dances necessarily connotes a celebration either.

“It’s simply a part of Chinese culture. It doesn’t mean the family is happy,” he says, adding that requests for karaoke to be sung or bright colours worn at a funeral remain rare – his company gets fewer than five such requests a year.

“For the Chinese community, they always greet death with grief, and that probably won’t change for a while. It’s very hard for them to celebrate a death. Even when the deceased has lived till 100, the family still grieves.”

The Wee family planned a personalized send-off for their father with the help of The Life Celebrant. PHOTO: THOMAS WEE via The Straits Times/Asia News Network

To him, a “happy” funeral is one in which the wishes of the deceased are respected. He notes with some optimism that more seniors are penning down their end-of-life preferences, despite initial reticence.

“It’s a bit challenging because we have to make multiple visits to their home, and have to plan multiple sharing activities. It’s only after the third or fourth session that they start taking this seriously,” he says.

Progress has been slow but steady. “Previously, senior centers would tell us not to come because their clients found it to be pantang (Malay for taboo), but now we get around 20 to 30 seniors who join the discussion.”

Ms Mei also hopes more Singaporeans will approach the idea of death with an open mind. However, she, too, is hesitant about using the term “happy” to describe the kind of send-offs she plans, preferring the term “happier” instead.

“These funerals may not be happy per se, but they can still be cathartic and reflective, focusing on gratitude instead.”

Mr Wee agrees that celebrating his father’s life helped ease his grief.

“We are definitely sad, but the wake allowed us to reflect on his life, what he meant to us, what he taught us. One of my friends texted me afterwards and said that although he didn’t really know my dad, having seen the set-up, he could tell I resembled him a lot.

“And that was a good reminder – knowing that I could eventually overcome this and carry on his legacy.”