In the first month of the year, I attended three funerals. One for an almost 92-year-old force-to-be-reckoned-with woman, with whom I shared a birthday; one for a friend’s brother, only 31 years old; one for another friend’s mother, who recently turned 65. I attended each of these services for the ones left behind. Despite the word, there is not much “fun” in funerals, but there is a great opportunity for introspection and empathy.
Since the funerals of my grandparents, I haven’t pushed the kids to attend every service. However, there are a few I deem as “important,” not for the sake of how well we knew the individual, but for the sake of showing love to those left behind.
These lessons are not simple but necessary for navigating life. As the adage goes, “No one gets out of this life alive.” No matter the age of your children, be clear when talking about death. Saying “they passed away” or “they didn’t make it” is vague and confusing.
As a Christian, I do not believe that death is the end of the story. However, there is still finality. For our time on this side of eternity, death is permanent. We can no longer see, hear, talk with, or hug the one who has died. Yet we have hope. We can be sad that our loved one is gone, relieved that their suffering is over, and joyful that the story isn’t over. Each of the emotions we experience is okay. It is important to teach your children that they are allowed to feel all the things.
Some services are more difficult than others, just as some losses are more complicated than others. Know yourself and your child(ren) well enough to pick up on cues. Some children are tender-hearted and tearful, some become overwhelmed by the emotions and people in the room, and some may seem stoic and unmoved. Meet them where they are, talk openly and honestly, and give them the kind of space they need. As long as they are safe, I allow my children to go to a different room if necessary.
The last lesson is minding what you say to the grieving. It is enough to say, “I’m sorry for your loss.” You don’t have to say anything else. Remember that Job’s friends were a great comfort to him until they spoke. Do share your memories of the person and how much you will miss them. Avoid asking questions that require the grieving person to make a decision. “Let me know if you need anything” is a nice sentiment, but in grief, a person may not know what they need. Offer something instead. “I’m going to bring a meal over on such and such a date, if that works for you.” You remove a burden but also leave it open.
After my friend’s mom died, we only had a week until ballet performance. I told her I would take care of the meal plan that week since we would be together anyway. She didn’t have to make any decisions; she only had to show up on time—a big enough challenge during grief!
Funerals are not fun, but you can experience joy even in sorrow. Grief is a process. Grief looks different from day to day. Grief comes in waves, some small and others like a tsunami. Some you wade through, some bury you, but eventually, you learn to surf.
