Always Go To The Funeral

“A Quiet Weekend, Featuring Advice From My Mom”

I’m taking a break this week from my usual lengthier posts, and instead, I’ll try to write an actually short one, with advice more applicable to everyone. Going short this week it doesn’t have anything to do with moving or the Mario movie (though I do think I may have worked myself up into a frenzy last week; emotions in mirror may be larger than they appear). It isn’t because I was working, either. It’s because I was in Chicago, and I got back to Minneapolis late. It was an admittedly pleasant weekend, in spite of the deeply unfortunate circumstances of my visit. I went back to Chicago this weekend for a funeral service.

As with the handful of deaths of friends and chosen family over the last year or two, this isn’t someone close enough to me that I feel it’s my place to eulogize them here on this blog. She was the mother of one of my closest friends in the whole world, however, so it has been an emotional weekend. Her passing wasn’t unexpected, at least not now, but she was still taken far too young. Suffice it to say that she was one of the kindest people I have ever met, and she always welcomed me into her home, even when all I did was scurry into the basement. It’s funny to me, then, that I only found out this weekend about her adventurous side. It was a side of her I vaguely knew existed but had only ever really heard in passing. I wish I had known her more as a person, instead of just knowing her as “my friend’s mom.” I’m sorry for that. But at the very least, I have been able to support my friend in small ways across the gulf of space between Minneapolis and Chicago. Going to the service was the least I could do.

And this is where that advice from my mom comes in; “always go to the funeral.” Even if it’s difficult or forces you to rearrange your own life, always go to the funeral. This isn’t specific to my friend or the service this weekend, but it’s something I’d like to share anyway. This is advice my mom has told me and my sibling for years, long before we really had to start going to funerals, or at least before we had matured enough to truly understand what a funeral was for. Because funerals, in truth, are for the living, not the dead. Whether you believe in an afterlife or not, whether final rites are performed in public or in private, funerals are for the living. The mourning process, the healing process, the grieving that we as humans go through after the loss of a loved one, that’s something only the living do. The dead have passed on. But the living remain, and it is the living who need help now. Parents, spouses, children, friends, family, caretakers, guardians, those who have been responsible for the well-being of the deceased are now released of that burden, but they must bear a new one. Carrying the weight of memory, containing the sorrow of continuing on in a world that’s now smaller without that loved one, it can be just as demanding as caregiving, or at least last much, much longer. Funerals serve to ease that transition into a new world, and offer closure.

As social creatures, we thrive in communities, and funerals, too, can be a great, if unintentionally ironic, way to build or reinforce community. In the case of this weekend, the funeral was somber, yes, but it was also a lively, loving space, a celebration of life. There were tears, but also smiles and laughter. I saw people I had not talked to in six years, and learned so much about not just the departed but also about those who loved her. It was… healing. For the grieving, those who are more truly, deeply, and personally affected by the loss, it is a great time to take stock of where you are, what your life is like, and who you can count on for support in the future. Hopefully, it offers a window in which to collectively grieve, too, to swap stories with friends and family and celebrate the life of those who have gone before us. That, in its own way, can serve as a step towards healing. Funerals are a great way, too, of knowing how much impact someone made, and how many people loved them. As much as many Western cultures (modern America especially) try to erase the presence of death from our lives, funerals serve a crucial function in grief and healing, and finding the strength to move forward. Everyone processes these things differently, but funerals can help.

Death is as much a part of being human as living, and it doesn’t have to be exclusively sad. Every culture has funerary practices, and for many, funerals often extend for more than just the customary American day. I think it’s a shame that American culture often demands the grieving to “suck it up and put it away,” to close off those feelings prematurely and “get back to work.” How can anyone expect someone to process the entirety of someone’s life in just three HR-approved bereavement days? It is normal for people to take weeks, months, years to properly grieve and heal from someone’s loss. The funeral is just the beginning step, or perhaps the midpoint, as the case may be. It may offer closure on someone’s life, and it may sometimes be full of joy, too, but when everyone has left and the flower arrangements are all cleaned away, that loved one still isn’t around. And all you’ve got now is time without them. I think it’s important to remember this, too. The living must go on, well, living. It’s one of those things that sounds obvious when you say it out loud, but at least in my experience, it never really feels real until you’re in the middle of it. If you’re invited to a funeral, someone you know is going to be in that situation very, very soon. They might like to see you.

I may have limited experience with true loss, but I do believe this is good advice. Always go to the funeral. If it inconveniences you a little, or maybe a lot, just remember that someone else is probably having the worst day of their life. If you can ease that even just a little, you should. Whatever meaning you assign to showing up to pay your respects might be exponentially multiplied for those you aim to support. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Show the family that you love them as much as you loved whoever has passed on. And even as you pay your respects to the dead, remember that you’re there for the living.

Always go to the funeral.