How to think about a funeral (without spiraling into existential dread)
Whether you're imagining your own send-off or trying to plan a meaningful goodbye for someone you love, it’s okay if the idea of a funeral makes you want to run and hide. You’re not alone.
But what if a funeral didn’t have to feel heavy, cookie-cutter, or disconnected from who someone really was?
What if it could be a little more… honest? More karaoke and campfires, less casseroles and stilted speeches?
This guide is here to help you (or your people) design a farewell that actually feels right. Here’s how to start:
Decide on the ‘who’
Before you start pondering flower types, scheming a venue, or planning playlists, ask yourself:
Who is this gathering really for?
Whether you're planning ahead for your own farewell or organizing something for someone else, this question can anchor everything that follows.
Is it for the person at the center of the goodbye?
To reflect who they are (or were), to leave a mark, say something specific, or make sure it feels personal and true.
Is it for the people left behind?
To help them grieve, laugh, remember, or find comfort in the chaos. Are there particular friends, family members, or communities that need to be held in this space?
Is it for both?
To honor someone’s life and create a space of connection for the people who remain?
Getting clear on your “who” can guide the tone, shape, and structure of the gathering. There’s no wrong answer — but who you center will shape the decisions you make.
Start with feelings, not logistics
So often, these gatherings are planned by starting with the logistics, and the activities — asking questions like “Where am I going to order flowers from?” or “What venue do we need to reserve?” or “Do I want my body there or not?”
Instead, start by asking “How do I want people to feel during the gathering?” and “How do I want them to feel when they leave?”
How you answer these questions — be it comfort or lightness, release or connection, a sense of mystery or an invitation to play, can help you make logistical decisions down the road that will be more aligned and impactful.
This can flip the question from “What will happen?” to “What kind of space am I creating for others?”
Borrow from the best: weddings, dinner parties, campfires
We know how to gather for joy. What if we used the same toolkit to gather for goodbyes?
Pull from what works:
Weddings: Rituals and ceremonial moments. Toasts. Interwoven elements of family. Joyous dance floors. Late night snacks and candid photos.
Dinner parties: Too many people, not enough chairs. Candle stubs. Belly laughs. Sharing food and circles of gratitudes.
Campfires: Music hour. Gooey s’mores and hot toddies. All of the stories. Time slowing down and everyone lingering.
Choose your collaborators
Planning a meaningful goodbye doesn’t have to be a solo act.
Whether you're making plans for yourself or someone else, invite a few trusted people to help shape the vision. People who understand the person at the center of it all—their quirks, values, and voice. Bring snacks. Use sticky notes. Take a long walk. Share voice notes back and forth. Whatever works for you.
To start, try asking each other:
What would make someone cackle with laughter and say: “Only you would’ve done it this way.”
What’s the texture of the space—soft lights? Wind in the trees? Glitter on the tables (or on your face)? Your favorite folk band on the speakers or the soundtrack of your twenties?
What part of the standard version of these gatherings makes you cringe, or roll your eyes, or bored out of your mind—and what could we skip, or shift, so it actually feels like you?
What would make people say, “How amazingly strange. And beautiful. And somehow exactly right”?
Think in moments
Think about the moments before you plan the program. What are the 2 - 3 things that could best deliver on the feelings you want to create? The best, most memorable experiences prioritize a few moments to make exceptional, over trying to make everything ‘pretty good.’
Try asking yourself these questions:
If there was one moment people walked away talking about, what would I want that to be?
What’s something that would feel most uniquely “me” (or most like the person we’re honoring)?
What did they love? Or what do I love?
Examples:
A polar plunge at dawn.
Karaoke with your favorite songs.
A walk through the woods instead of a reception line.
A table with index cards where people can write you a letter or a grudge or a poem.
Ask your person (or people)
If there’s someone especially close to the person at the center of this gathering—whether that’s you, a partner, a parent, or a close friend—consider asking them what they might hope for or need from this moment.
Their perspective doesn’t have to drive every decision, but it can offer a valuable lens as you shape what the gathering becomes.
And if their needs are different from yours—or from what you think the person would have wanted—that’s okay. Perhaps you want a raucous party, and they want an intimate circle for sharing stories. That’s totally fine, and very common. Consider how you might empower (or collaborate with) them to design the moments they need, too. Perhaps a big beach bonfire to send you out in style, and a smaller dinner party for them to remember you in the way that feels best for them.
Try asking:
What kind of gathering do you imagine would feel most joyful, or comforting, or supportive, for you?
Do you imagine something intimate, or expansive?
Anything you are nervous about, or would dread?
Want help designing a goodbye that actually feels like you?
We’ve got you. Book a free 30-minute call with us to get started.
