I’ve read all the tips and tricks on how to not cry at a funeral, and tried them too – usually without much success.
The first funeral I remember attending was for my grandfather when I was 19.
It was held at a crematorium chapel and I bawled my eyes out, especially when the coffin disappeared behind the little door and the curtains shut; it just seemed so final. Most of the adults (including my mother and uncle) were dry-eyed, so I felt very embarrassed and uncouth for being such an emotional wreck!
While it was also terribly sad when the family was given Grandpa’s ashes in a ceramic urn some time later, at least then I could shed tears in private.
But then I married into a Catholic family, and there were no cremations for them, no sirree, it was a full requiem mass followed by burial at the cemetery. If seeing the coffin lowered into the ground, doesn’t get your tears flowing, nothing will!
I’ve tried just about everything in my vain attempt to not cry at a funeral – things like:
- looking upwards or moving my eyes around quickly (just makes you look a bit demented instead);
- closing my eyes (if anything, makes it easier for the tears to start sliding down your face);
- digging my fingernails into my palms, or biting my lip til it hurts (just gives you even more reason to cry!);
- trying to focus on my breathing, and consciously relaxing my face, rather than hold it rigidly (never worked for me);
- I’ve also heard that a sip of water helps (but that’s not really the done thing in a funeral mass).
Sadly, I had the opportunity to put my “how to not cry at a funeral” strategies to the test last week, as we farewelled a cousin of the husbear.
At one point during the service, I found myself focusing on the stained glass windows, trying not to cry … but then I thought … so what if I cry?!
Is crying such a bad thing? If you can’t cry at a funeral, when can you? If anything, this should be one time when you can grieve openly!
We seem to be conditioned that crying at a funeral is embarrassing, so we try desperately to stem the flow of tears.
Why are we so embarrassed to cry at a funeral?
Thinking it over further, I realised that there were two primary reasons why I felt embarrassed by my tears:
- Because I didn’t feel I was “close enough” to the deceased to be allowed the luxury of tears; and,
- Because the immediate family members were doing such a good job of holding it together, it put me to shame! (But as the hubster wisely pointed out afterwards, they were probably pretty much all cried out by the time the funeral rolled around)
Although I was deeply saddened by the loss of a lovely man, I realised that what triggered my tears at the funeral was empathy.
My tears were for the ones left behind.
I cried as his mum carefully arranged the pall cloth over the coffin, “tucking him in” for the last time.
I cried when his beautiful daughter, aged in her early 20’s, struggled to maintain her composure when she stood to say a few words.
I cried near the end of the service, when the pall cloth was removed. This time, his mum stooped to kiss the coffin, and I cried over this precious last kiss for her son.
I’ve decided that in future, I’m going to own my tears and allow myself to grieve at funerals, no matter how well I know – or don’t know – the deceased. It’s not something we should be ashamed of!
Do you cry at funerals? What tips would you recommend to somebody wondering how not to cry at a funeral?!