Guest Article by Jeannine Müller
Bremen's Life and Death Fair Redefines How We Talk About Mortality
Volunteer hospice companions and a full-time coordinator from the outpatient hospice and palliative care advisory service at Sozialwerk Meiningen gGmbH traveled to Bremen to attend the "Life and Death" fair.
Anyone who thinks this event is a somber affair is mistaken. As the organizers put it: "There's so much life before death!" Warm laughter echoes through the exhibition halls, while harp music and lively activity turn Life and Death into something truly special—a celebration brimming with vitality and energy.
A current, practice-oriented continuing education program featuring numerous expert lectures and an extensive selection of professional literature rounds out the experience.
Our participants also shared their impressions: "It was an intense time filled with fascinating lectures, profound conversations, and moments of reflection—and yes, there was plenty of shared joy, too."
Stefanie Heß, a volunteer hospice companion, offers a deeply personal, honest, and thought-provoking account of her experience:
Last weekend, I came face to face with death. Black robe, scythe, exhibition hall. Surreal? A little. I was in Bremen at the Life and Death fair.
As part of my volunteer work in hospice and palliative care, I joined a wonderfully eclectic group of women. We laughed a lot, explored a lot, and talked a lot. And this fair truly lived up to its name: it was all about life and death.
There was the enchanting "Comfort Tiger," harp music, books on navigating grief, animal-assisted therapy, funeral planning, organ donation, workshops, and lectures—including discussions on so-called "deadbots," digital mourning, and suicide prevention.
Yet what struck me most was the surprising amount of humor—on postcards, T-shirts, and in those slightly offbeat moments that didn't diminish death but made it more human. One of my fellow travelers even bought an urn, imagining her grandchild painting it. No joke.
And perhaps that was the most powerful takeaway: there wasn't just heaviness. There was vitality. Humor. Humanity. Directness.
In everyday life, we often talk about death as if silence could keep it at bay. It can't. But silence can make us miss out on so much—conversations, goodbyes, truths, tenderness, priorities.
I don't believe death makes life darker. It makes it clearer. It reminds us—quite bluntly—that we don't have forever. Not for forgiveness. Not for reconciliation. Not for "later."
Not for endlessly postponing what we've long known needs doing. For me, confronting our own mortality isn't something to leave until the last moment—it's a form of self-leadership.
One card at the fair put it well: "Talking about sex doesn't make you pregnant. Talking about death doesn't kill you." I had to laugh.
And I thought: Yes. Exactly. Maybe we'd all be better off if we talked about death a little more normally. Not morbidly. Not melodramatically. But humanly.
What about you? Do you talk about death?
