As pocket money jobs go, I suppose mine was one of the more unusual. While schoolpals were cutting grass, doing paper rounds or washing cars, I would help my father with his work as an undertaker.

I was just eight when I went on my first "removal". By ten I was able to line a coffin and by 15 I could cut a nameplate and assist as a pall bearer.

No doubt some people would be horrified at the thought of anyone so young being subjected to such experiences but, in hindsight, the lessons learned whilst working with dad have proved as valuable as any in the classroom.

That's why I fully support Kay Hemmings, the teacher from Co Durham who invited an undertaker into school and is encouraging her pupils to talk about death.

I hope the parents who have taken their children out of the lessons think again.

Gentle guidance and a chance to ask questions can only help a child when he or she is first confronted with what is one of life's few certainties.

What better place to debunk a few myths than the open forum and captive audience of a classroom? And if children take matters home for further discussion so much the better.

For my father it was simply a matter of passing on the skills of his trade in case I followed him into the profession.

If he had owned a shop no doubt he would have had me behind the counter: if he ran a garage he would have taught me mechanics - he just happened to be an undertaker.

But my days out with dad taught me far more than the basics of being an undertaker. It instilled in me a desire for neatness that has stayed with me ever since, from the clothes I wear to my anti-litter stance,.

It taught me that all people deserve respect, no matter what their background and most of all it taught me how precious life is. I now try to make the most out of every day and also take time to appreciate things, from the countryside to a simple cup of tea.

Many adults, let alone children, still find it difficult to talk or even think about death. I'm not talking specifially about the loss of a loved one but the subject in general.

During the dark days of my suspension as a police officer I set up office in the deep recesses of my father's business.

It was a room tucked away in the corner of the basement and to get there you had to file past rows of empty coffins, urns and the old nameplate engraving machine I used to use as a teenager.

I found it an oasis, an incredibly peaceful place to escape and think, though the look on the faces of one or two of the people who came to see me there suggested they found the experience more unsettling.

School days are about far more than the three Rs, and Miss Hemmings' initiative is both caring and sensible.

She should be encouraged to take her lessons on death into the adult education arena and perhaps the parents who have removed children from her classes could be the first intake.