Life Goes On
I’ve spent the better part of the last several months celebrating lives lost far too soon. Since June, it seems, I’ve been in a perpetual state of remembering, consoling, crying, and wearing a lot of black. From outdoor services to large churches to the privacy of my own home, I’ve said goodbye to friends, family, friends of friends, teachers, mentors, and acquaintances, too. Needless to say, it’s been a heavy year, but still one that pales in comparison to those who were closest to the descendants I still grieve and pray for every day.
At each passing, I’m always left asking how I can help. How can I be there for my friend, my family members, my friends of friends, my teachers’ spouses, my acquaintances’ kids? What do they need? What do I have to give?
My best friend told me recently she needed me for logistics and levity. My ministry, I’ve come to learn, is one of planning. It’s also one of snark which, as it turns out, is a hit at funerals. I’ve also learned a lot about the do’s and don'ts of grief; things you may not think of until it’s your time to ask what you should or should not do to help the people you love.
I hope you don’t need to reference the following list for a long time. I hope the people closest to you and the people closest to the ones you love live long, happy, fulfilling lives. I hope that when you do need this list, you take it to heart, giggle a little, find and excel in your own ministry, and provide the support the people in your life both need and deserve.
Do reach out to offer condolences. Even if you didn’t know the person who passed very well, if you know and even sort of like one or more of the people left behind, reach out to offer love, food, friendship, and support. Oftentimes, if I know a grieving person well enough, I’ll send links to songs and (often) inappropriate memes.
Don’t immediately ask how a person died. While I realize we as humans have an inherent need to know all the details, perhaps hold off on asking a grieving widow in a lowercase Facebook comment with repeating punctuation, “what happened???” Try some heavy petting first by sending a private message and asking whether she needs anything. If she responds in a way that suggests she’s up for a continued conversation, bring it up later. And, if you don’t feel close enough to send a private message in the first place, perhaps settle simply on the hug emoji and call it a day.
Don’t wear a midriff to a funeral. This you would think is self explanatory, but take it from me it’s not. Neither are shorts with pockets hanging below the hemline and scores of other apparel better suited for the county fair or, better yet, the trash. With that said, if the humans wearing these items to funerals are doing so to distract loved ones from their grief, they are truly succeeding and should be applauded for their boldness. Bravo.
Do hang out with the children at funerals who have absolutely no idea how to act, but still managed to come wearing a full shirt. These little people who absentmindedly whisper loudly to no one in particular, “My butt itches” are the true heroes of grief and God’s messengers telling us not to take anything - including death - too seriously.
Don’t be offended by anything someone who is grieving says or does. Their anger and their appreciation come in parallel waves they are far too upset to discern. Don’t read too much into it and don’t stop giving them your all.
Do let yourself rest and recover. Being supportive is a tough business; it’s one of the reasons therapists have therapists. Remaining strong and bold and loving to someone who is grieving a difficult death can drain you emotionally and it should be met with acceptance instead of guilt. After the last funeral I attended I withdrew from nearly everyone except my husband and my child so I could regain my strength. This withdrawal was also met with a nasty cold, which I can only assume was my body’s way of telling me to regain my energy and get some much needed sleep.
Do remember to honor the people you love in life with as much fervor as you would in death. I’ve written many times about the importance of not only keeping good people in your life but also being present for the people you love. It’s also just as important to tell the people you love why you love them and to do so as often as possible. If this year has taught me anything it’s that you truly never know what the future holds.
Do know that life does indeed go on, but it doesn’t happen as quickly as you think it should for those who are impacted by a death so significant it makes them question how they could possibly face another day. In these instances, offer continued grace, understanding, love, and a listening ear. Don’t offer unsolicited advice. Don’t try to solve their problems. Just. Be. Present. After all, at the end of any day, that’s all any of us can be.
Finally, do make your own wishes known. I met a woman not long ago whose father was adamant that he, as a retired Master Sergeant in the U.S. Marine Corps, not be buried with military honors even though it’s the preference of his wife and children. Understanding his resolve, his daughter told him to document his funeral requests and have them notarized so there wouldn’t be any confusion when the time came. This, I think, is excellent advice as I’ve seen more than one person be laid to rest in a way that wasn’t consistent with their wishes. For me, I want to be cremated and housed in a mausoleum (so my great, great grandchildren, to whom I’ll be handed down, don’t throw me in the trash because they didn’t know who the hell I was) and, at the funeral, I want everyone to wear bright colors, drink from an open bar, and listen to “I’ve Got Dreams to Remember” (Otis Redding), “Black Muddy River” (The Grateful Dead), and “One Toke Over the Line” (Brewer & Shipley) - in that order - while sharing stories and laughing at my shenanigans. So help me God if “On Eagles Wings” is played I’ll come back and haunt everyone in attendance.
