Why do officiants need to remain professional? Or in other words, would you appreciate a crying, sobbing funeral director? Can an officiant show his or her emotions at a Celebration of Life?

First and foremost, families expect the persons they retain to plan and guide a memorial to care — a lot. But that’s not the same as showing one’s own raw emotions.

A few years ago, one of my friends and colleagues had to conducted the funeral for a 17-year old teenager. That’s a tough assignment for anybody and everybody involved.

At the event, my dear colleague stood in front of a crowd of over 1,000 people. So many showed up! Everybody wanted to demonstrate their support for the family of that young man.

Emotions ran high and it felt like all 1,000 people in attendance may be on the brink of a collective breakdown at any time, he told me later. The empathy for the teen’s distraught family was palpable.

I asked my colleague if he himself broke down at any point. I would certainly would have understood if so.

“No,” he said. He added, “Me breaking down would have been unkind. Everybody needed me to stay a little bit, even if just a little bit, in control.”

I agree. Kindness, respect, and even love for grieving families, asks professionals to stay professional. It’s our job to keep the focus on helping others to grieve. Not because we don’t care, but precisely because we do care.

In the course of my career, I’ve been asked repeatedly if young children should attend a Celebration of Life or funeral.

Ultimately, that’s a decision only a parent can make. It will depend on the maturity of the child, his or her relationship to the person who passed away, and if any other children will be at the funeral.

If at all possible, I suggest it is important to ensure a very young child has somebody to “watch over him or her” during the memorial. Maybe a family friend or an older cousin. Preferably someone with a bit more distance to the deceased.      

Some years ago, I officiated at a funeral for a community leader who was widely loved and respected. A large crowd gathered in his honour. At least 400 people filled the church.

On the front bench sat a little grandson, about 12 years old. From the beginning of the service to the very end, he was quietly sobbing inconsolably. The dissonance between the wonderful notes of honour, love and praise shared about the grandfather and this young child’s sorrow was difficult for me, as the officiant, to watch. Yet, in this case, this boy was given the opportunity to cry for a man he adored and loved. The funeral will likely be a memory he will carry with him likely for the rest of his life. I have every reason to believe it will be a memory he will cherish