I was 18 when I attended my first funeral for a friend killed in a car accident. While his death wasn’t the first that I’d experienced it was by far the most tragic. It was 1986. My life was in front of me. His was behind him. I still struggle to make sense of it and I’ve thought often about this moment in my life.
While training to be a therapist, I learnt about grief and bereavement and wondered why my friend’s funeral was my first. What on earth was I doing when it was time to say goodbye to my grandmother, Uncle George and Aunty Dot. I asked my mum, why didn’t I go to their funerals? ‘Because they were all so bloody awful’ she replied.
No question, my mum felt that the people she’d loved most had been done a disservice when it came to saying farewell. Having witnessed too many ceremonies devoid of love, care and thought – including for her own parents – she clearly wanted to save me from the same experience. Undoubtedly this story is woven into why I became a celebrant who works with families to create funeral ceremonies crafted with love and care. But back then, it wasn’t just my mum who thought that a funeral was no place for a child – there was a far wider understanding that going to a funeral was very much an activity for the grownups. And it’s left quite a legacy.
Having witnessed too many ceremonies devoid of love, care and thought – including for her own parents – she clearly wanted to save me from the same experience.
Over the last 20 years, working as a therapist, I’ve met too many people who carry the wounds of being excluded as a child from attending a funeral of a parent, sibling or a close family member. However well intended the decision may have been (and it often was), it’s a decision that can leave unanswered questions which last a lifetime. Despite death being the only inevitability, we can struggle at any age to accept the reality that someone we love has died. And, even when we are expecting a death it can still come as a terrible shock.
Which is why it’s so important that we hold truthful and age-appropriate conversations about death and dying with children – simply explaining as best we can what has happened, what is happening now and what will happen next. Thankfully, we are living in a more psychologically aware society and charities such as Winston’s Wish and Child Bereavement UK offer invaluable support to anyone needing to talk to children about what happens when someone we love dies.
Children can be supported in their grief by being included at a funeral, being present among family and friends and having a role which doesn’t have to mean speaking or doing a reading. Something simple but symbolic, such as, drawing a picture, writing a message, laying a flower or lighting the number of candles to symbolise the love of the family can all be powerful and beautiful rituals that help children to start to accept the reality that someone they love has died. And, while sadness and tears are to be expected at a funeral, when children come together with family and friends who are mourning, they will see that others are laughing and crying. And this helps children as it shows them that their feelings are normal and that they are not alone.
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