Why Adelaide is having its first Death Festival at Centennial Park Cemetery | Jess Adamson

Hear me out, because while it might sound like a grim day out with the family, to me it makes a lot of sense, writes Jess Adamson.

Next month, Adelaide will host its first ever Death Festival.

It might not be what you had planned for Saturday, October 12, but don’t panic, it’s not too late to clear your diaries.

Why would anyone want to go to a Death Festival you might ask? And what on earth goes on there?

Hear me out, because while it might sound like a grim day out with the family, to me it makes a lot of sense.

The free event, at Centennial Park Cemetery, is about demystifying death.

A cleverly curated line up of speakers including intensive care unit doctors, palliative care specialists, funeral directors and a Buddhist nun will spark conversations aimed at taking the fear away. And if you want to chat it out further, there’s a Death Cafe open to all.

I like the idea of going to a cemetery for something that won’t make me cry.

A bit like the new and popular 1947 Coffee Co cafe. It’s part of the Enfield Memorial Park but very few of its patrons are there to visit the dead. It’s a vibrant meeting place with good food and coffee that’s changing the perceptions we have of cemeteries.

None of us are immune to the innate fear of mortality and yet in western cultures, we rarely talk about it.

When our children ask me what happens after life, I don’t have all the answers.

Founders India Wallace and Jan McGregor

Death is a universal truth but a taboo topic for most of us and so we’re almost always unprepared when the time comes.

But what if we became comfortable with the thought of dying? What if it became a normal part of our everyday conversation? What if we actively planned for it and openly discussed our hopes and feelings with our loved ones?

Twenty-one years ago, India Wallace was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer.

The then 42-year-old had a teenage daughter and a big career in advertising with no plans to slow down.

Her diagnosis was life-changing.

“It just really made me think about my own mortality and my legacy,” India says.

“I wondered what I was going to leave behind. It changed my whole life because I realised how precious life was.”

Through months of gruelling chemotherapy and some long, lonely nights, India found comfort and strength in meditation and became a practising Buddhist.

The cancer returned seven years ago, but this time she found it early, avoided treatment apart from a double mastectomy and began counselling women in similar situations.

India and Adelaide nurse Jan McGregor are the passion behind the Death Festival, determined to help others by reducing some of the mystery and fear around dying.

They’re also the co-founders of Pure Land Home Hospice, a free service supporting South Australians and their families, at the end of life.

It’s in a pilot phase at the moment, but put simply, the hospice arranges for nurses and trained companions to comfort the dying in their final years, months, weeks, days and hours.

They support South Australians to die in their own place with compassion – whether that’s their own home, an aged care home, under a bridge or in a park. They offer spiritual support regardless of religious beliefs.

The service begins from the moment of diagnosis, giving individuals the chance to plan and prepare for death at home, leading to greater acceptance.

“We support them and their families holistically throughout that process and also bereavement after death for their families,” India says.

“Sometimes you can’t share your deepest, darkest fears with your family.

“It’s about helping facilitate these conversations that perhaps they can’t have with family and friends because they’re too close.

“Dying in that way is so much better than being scared. That’s what we try and create with that person – that quieter, calmer, more compassionate ending that really helps the family as well.”

1947 Coffee Co cafe at Enfield Memorial Park

India, Jan and the team have so far helped seven local families through death.

One of them was Kelly, an Adelaide woman in her 30s who lived with a range of disabilities and died from breast cancer almost a year ago.

India Wallace with Kelly, during Covid

“I would go and sit with her every week, hold her hand and help her make a cake,” India says.

“We also supported her parents who have other children. We were with her for quite a few months and had a very strong connection.

“We were truly there for her.”

Twenty more families losing a loved one will soon be part of phase two of the Pure Land Home Hospice pilot program. Two new nurses are coming on board and more companions are being trained.

It’s a remarkable community service initiative and a gift to South Australians for which India and Jan don’t expect any reward. They’re grateful to their generous donors and backers who believe in the selfless work they’re doing, laying the groundwork for other South Australians to benefit.

They’re acutely aware they can’t help everyone but have big plans to eventually expand across the city and state.

“There’s a lot of lonely people out there who don’t ever have people visiting them, especially in nursing homes” India says.

“They’re the ones we really want to get to.”

If you’d like to know more about death but didn’t know who or where to ask, Adelaide’s first Death Festival is for you.

There are sessions on death anxiety, the importance of planning and all aspects of palliative care.

Funeral directors will explore the many and varied ways to say goodbye and there’s a dedicated children’s area with art and craft, market stalls and storytelling.

I’m guessing that not many of you will be at the festival next month, but this is a work in progress and a space to watch.

How people die remains in the memories of those who live on.

Breaking the silence around death might just be life-changing for us all.