Funerals (and viewings) are part of the consistent, unending cycle of life. They remind us of our own mortality. It is also true that these demanding events of death increase as we get older.
This needed death ritual does several important functions for us as emotional beings. It helps acknowledge the reality of death; gives validity to the life of the deceased; helps express grief for mourners in a way consistent with cultural values; allows the embracing of faith about death; and provides hope for those left behind. Understanding the factors involved in the bereavement process are crucial in dealing with our mental stability. Remember these important points:
o
Acknowledge the reality of the death: When someone we love dies, we must openly acknowledge the
reality and the finality of the death if we are to move forward with our grief.
Over the course of time, we begin to acknowledge the reality of the death in
our hearts. Intellectually, when we
contact the funeral home, set a time for the service, plan the ceremony, view
the body, perhaps even choose clothing and jewelry for the body, we cannot
avoid acknowledging that the person has died. When we see the casket being
lowered into the ground, we are witness to death's finality.
o
Develop a new self-identity: The funeral helps us
begin this difficult process of developing a new self-identity because it
provides a social venue for public acknowledgment of our new roles. Others
attending the funeral are in effect saying, "We acknowledge your changed
identity, and we want you to know we still care about you."
On
the other hand, in situations where there is no funeral, the social group does
not know how to relate to the person whose identity has changed, and often that
person is socially abandoned. In addition, having supportive friends and family
around us at the time of the funeral helps us realize we literally still exist.
This self-identity issue is illustrated by a comment the bereaved often make:
"When he died, I felt like a part of me died, too."
o Move toward the pain of the loss: As our acknowledgment of the
death progresses from head to heart understanding, we begin to embrace the pain
of the loss. This is another need the bereaved must have met if they are to
heal. Healthy grief means expressing painful feelings.
Healthy funeral ceremonies allow that. People cry at
funerals because they are forced to concentrate on the fact of the death. For
at least two-hours, mourners attend the visitation (or funeral). Often pain
cannot be avoided. Funerals are the only time and place for those painful
feelings to be expressed that society condones
“There is but one freedom to put oneself right with
death. After that everything is possible. I cannot force you to believe in God.
Believing in God amounts to coming to terms with death. When you have accepted
death, the problem of God will be solved and not the reverse.” (Albert Camus)
o
Receive ongoing support from others: As we have said, funerals are a public means of
expressing our beliefs and feelings about the death of someone loved. In fact,
funerals are the public venue for offering support to others and being
supported in grief, both at the time of the funeral and into the future.
Funerals make a social statement that says, "Come support me."
Whether
they realize it or not, those who choose not to have a funeral are saying, "Don't
come support me." Funerals let us physically demonstrate our support, too.
At funerals, we are permitted to embrace, touch, and comfort. As words can be
inadequate, we nonverbally show our support.
This
physical presence of support is one of the most important healing aspects of
meaningful funeral ceremonies. Funerals serve as the central gathering place
for mourners. When we care about someone who died or their family members, we
attend the funeral. Our physical attendance is our most important show of
support for the living. By being at the funeral (or viewing) we let everyone
else there know that they are not alone in their grief.
o
Remember the person who died:
To heal in grief, we must shift our relationship with the person who died from
one of physical presence to one of memory. Like no other time before or after
the death, the funeral invites us to focus on our past relationship with that
single person, and to share those memories with others.
At
traditional funerals, the eulogy attempts to highlight the major events in the
life of the deceased, and the characteristics that he or she most prominently
displayed. The sharing of memories at the funeral affirms the worth we have
placed on the person who died (legitimizing the pain).
The
memories others choose to share with us at the funeral are memories that we
have not heard before. This teaches us about the dead person's life apart from
ours, and allows us glimpses into that life that we may cherish forever
o
Search for meaning:
When someone loved dies, we naturally question the meaning of life and death.
Why did this person die? Why now? Why this way? Why does it have to hurt so
much? What happens after death? To heal in grief, we must explore these types
of questions if we are to become reconciled to our grief.
This
does not mean we must find definitive answers. We need the opportunity to think
(and feel) things through. On a more fundamental level, the funeral reinforces this
one central fact of our existence: we will die one day. Dying is a natural and
unavoidable process.
Thus the
funeral helps us search for meaning in the life and death of the person who
died as well as in our own lives and impending deaths. Each funeral we attend
serves as a sort of dress rehearsal for our own. The very fact of a funeral
demonstrates that death is important to us. The living must go on existing as completely
as possible as it should be.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.[i]
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.[i]
[i] The poem, “Do Not Stand at My Grave and You” by Mary
Elizabeth Frye
This
post is dedicated to my friend, the late Juanita Rae (Crutchfield) McLaughlin, on
her funeral at Fellowship Baptist Church, Columbus, OH, on the morning of
Monday, August 21, 2017. To see Juanita's obituary, refer to this link: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/dispatch/obituary.aspx?n=juanita-mclaughlin&pid=186410917&fhid=6019
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