Funerals: The Love, the Loss, and the Drama

Funerals are rarely neat and tidy affairs. The best of them bring people together to celebrate a life well lived: they gather, shed tears, share memories, and raise a glass afterwards. But sometimes they're not quite so straightforward. they can also be a cocktail of love, laughter, tears, awkward moments, and - let’s be honest - drama.

As a celebrant, I see this all the time. Families who adore each other can suddenly find themselves in heated debates over music choices, flowers, who gets to speak, who stands at the head of the coffin at a burial or sits on the front row at the crematorium. It isn’t because they don’t care: it’s because they care so deeply. Grief cracks people open, and emotions spill out in every direction.

And I’ll confess, I’ve been there myself. When my dad died, I threw myself into making sure he had the send-off he deserved. I wrote the eulogy, chose the coffin, negotiated family wishes, and bristled at anything that didn’t feel right. Looking back, I can see it wasn’t just about control. It was about love, about protecting his memory. Grief makes us fierce and tender at the same time.

Here are some of the lessons I’ve learned, both from my own journey and from walking alongside many families in theirs:

1. Everyone’s grief is valid

Nobody “owns” a person’s memory. Whether you were their partner, sibling, neighbour, or the friend who shared late-night phone calls: they mattered to you, and your grief matters too.

And yes, it can feel like a competition sometimes. I’ve seen a mother step into the role of “chief mourner” at her son’s funeral, leaving his widow on the sidelines. Out of love, the daughter-in-law stepped back and let her, but it was painful. These moments remind us that grief can make people territorial, almost as if they’re guarding the depth of their love.

But the truth is, grief doesn’t run on rankings. Each connection is unique, and each grief is real. There’s enough love to go around.

2. Emotions will be heightened

Funerals magnify feelings. The calmest of us can become warriors about hymn choices or fonts on the order of service. (Yes, fonts. I’ve seen that battle waged.)

It’s rarely about the detail itself: it’s about needing something solid to hold onto in the storm. Expect it. Lean into it, even. Before you know it, someone will crack a joke or share a memory, and suddenly everyone will be laughing through their tears. That’s the strange gift of funerals: they show us the full spectrum of being human.

3. Do what works for you

Sometimes the most important thing you can do is simply show up. Being there is about honouring the person you loved and giving yourself space to grieve.

Yes, tensions can make this tricky. Maybe someone suggests you don’t need to be there, or they tell you that they’ll “represent the family.” Maybe there are unspoken pressures to step aside. But funerals aren’t a spectator sport. Your presence matters.

Of course, sometimes being there is neither possible nor safe. But there are always other ways to mark the moment. You could light a candle at home, write a letter, or gather friends together for a toast. I’ve known families set up group chats to swap favourite photos and stories, creating a memory book without even realising it. These small acts carry just as much meaning as being at the funeral itself.

5. Keep sight of the heart of it all

Amidst the arguments and the drama, it helps to pause and remember: this is about love. The person who has died is at the centre.

Love outlives us. It’s what carries on in the stories, the laughter, and yes - even in the drama. It's why we find ourselves so caught up in the loss. As Donna Ashworth put it, love came first.

So if you ever find yourself caught between your own grief and someone else’s expectations, pause. Ask yourself: What will help me grieve, and what will honour the person I’ve lost? Then, gently but firmly, do that.

Because funerals aren’t just about goodbye. They’re about the fierce, complicated, beautiful love that keeps us tethered to one another, even when we’re gone. And if there’s drama along the way - well, maybe that’s just another sign of how deeply we cared.