Kids and Their First Funeral: How We Prepared Them & How it Went | Part 2

This is Part 2 of a Series on Kids & Funerals

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In Part 1 of this series, the death of my 90 year old grandmother brought about the need to explain to my children what to expect from funeral ceremonies. Their first time seeing a dead person was significant and we spoke to them intentionally about what it would be like. At the ages of 8, 5 and almost 2, they attended their first viewing and were calm, present, curious, and still their playful selves.

Up next was the Funeral – an entirely different experience and set of demands to place on kids.

First off, let me say, if you know children will be present at the funeral, I highly suggest planning for them. This was a service planned well for the presence of kids that allowed for their needs and abilities. When the ceremony started, some of the little boys (4 under 5 years old) were playing with monster trucks on the far side of the room. While my grandmother would have loved them there, playing and laughing, it wasn’t going to work and we also knew we could not expect them to sit or play quietly for the entirety of the ceremony. Fortunately, we were at a church with a playground just outside. The little kids were thrilled to play out there allowing us to focus and be gathered together to listen and remember.

Here’s what we told them about funerals…

Ask questions: We didn’t know what they knew about funerals so we told them to ask us any and all of their questions. What were they curious about, were they worried about anything. Generally, they expressed some nervousness that they likened to the first day of school – experiencing something new that they hadn’t done before. They were also just fine about it all.

I was careful to not display worry or lead them to believe that there was reason to fear anything. If I had talked about the funeral as much as I was thinking about it, I would have signaled to them this was something more worrisome and I think it could have given cause to some unnecessary anxiety.

Best question: “Mom, will there be a pool at the funeraler?” – classic 5 yeard old boy. This was a great illustration of how innocent and truly clueless kids can be about the adult world. It was so helpful to know that was something he was thinking could happen at a “funeraler.” Being able to set his expectation was so helpful and prompted me to be direct and explicit about what would happen.

• “At the funeral, we will see all of our family and friends who knew and loved Grandma. Some of them might be crying and that is normal and ok. We will sit down and listen while Uncle Matt talks about Grandma and other people will talk, too.”
• “You’ll see me cry and I’m sure I will also laugh at the fun stories about Grandma. We don’t have to be only sad at funerals.”
• “Grandma’s casket will be there but it will be closed this time and it will stay closed.” – I recommend just saying what you know when it comes to this element as all funerals are different. Presenting the possible options if you’re unsure is helpful.

Here’s how the funeral went …

With my little ones, the 5 and almost 2 year old supervised outside it was my 8 year old who had my interest. She was very interested in the adult movements and made sure she had her own front-row seat and program for the service. She did as well as any 8 year old might and seemed to find the funeral interesting, laughed with the rest of us, and observed our tears with peace. My 5 year old popped in a couple of times very briefly, checking in before jetting back out to play.

In short, she picked up on the queues, was quiet when appropriate and moved comfortably through the elements of the eulogy, public sharing, and the slideshow. This wasn’t stressful for her or hard to take in. As I said in Part 1, we are fortunate that our first family funeral was the death of a 90 year old, her great grandmother; a deep loss but not unexpected or tragic.

Creative & child-friendly reception …

My grandparents sailed the south Pacific for 4 years on board their boat, Thesis.

The reception was wonderful. My grandmother was an artist and my cousin brilliantly had coloring pages made from her original art works (amazing, right?). The pages were spread around the tables with markers letting the kids color while we ate and visited. There were also two long tables featuring highlights from my grandmother’s life. Pictures, favorite flowers, her watercolors, tokens and memories were set out for the kids to look at and ask after. We got to tell so many of her stories to them. My aunt also had postcards of her paintings bound together in bundles for guests to take away with them. It was simple, sweet, and in every way comfortable and appropriate for the kids.

When it was time for the casket to return to the funeral home, my dad, a funeral director of 35 years, directed everyone and had us all walk out, following her for our last goodbye.

Explaining that Grandma was flying home to California was the most confusing thing we had to explain. We had to answer questions again about if she was dead, would she come back to life, where would she live, etc. None of the questions were emotional and we didn’t make them that way. I answered matter-of-factly, giving them the information they needed. Sometimes the answers sound grim, “Grandma will stay in a container and be in a special part of the plane, not sitting with us.” – but that is the very real information they are looking for.

If you’ve read this and are thinking, well, that was lovely but uneventful – that is precisely what it was.

For as many children as there were, the funeral was beautiful, sweet, and the kids weren’t a difficulty – they were a highlight.

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This situation yielded the powerful juxtaposition of aging and death with the youth and life that coexists in all families. The full-circle was felt, the cycle honored. I love that my family placed such a high priority on the kids being present, and that they got to see for themselves what we do with death.

These kids were shown that funerals are another part of life, that Grandma mattered to a lot of people, and they were given the respect of being there to honor her and embody in themselves her legacy that lives on.

The cover photo …

Because my 5 year old had seen Grandma in the casket the day before, he knew she was in there. Before and after the funeral the kids would wander back to the casket to just sort of check on it. When my son reached out his hand to touch “GG” and say goodbye, I felt the deepest sense that he understood more than I could have guessed. In writing this I asked him if he remembered this photo, he did. I asked if he remembered how he felt when he touched her casket, “Um, yeah. I felt a little bit sad.” He immediately moved on to building his robot and laughing with his brother. Death and life. They aren’t separate things and the effects of a death stay with us. I’m so grateful for this shared experience and that we can each talk about and remember Grandma’s beautiful “funeraler.”