Five rules to follow for perfect funeral etiquette
DECEMBER is coming and while we might be trying to avoid the âc wordâ, there is also a âfâ word that will likely abound. Funerals are a fact of life but especially in the winter months. Statistics show that deaths rise by more than seven per cent in the winter months compared to summer months. In 2013 almost 800 more people died in December than in August. And so, along with visiting Santaâs grotto, many of us will find ourselves attending a funeral in the coming months.
Apparently we Irish do them well. While our American counterparts find the idea of a âwakeâ ghastly, we seem to wear the tradition like a badge of honour. Something that sets us apart. Something we excel at.
Ah yes, thereâs nothing quite like an Irish funeral: the enormous queues, the trying to get there early so you can ârun in and outâ, the endless handshaking, the groups of four and five standing under the one half broken Penneysâ umbrella blessing themselves as the hearse pulls off.
Or are we that good at funerals? Are we just kidding ourselves?
Recently I attended the funeral of a close friendâs mother and I noticed the same anxieties crop up every time. And looking around the room on the evening of the wake I realised I wasnât the only one.
People were avoiding the obvious. Avoiding eye contact with the bereaved. And so the question arose: Does anybody really know how to act at an Irish funeral? (Before the whiskey starts flowing.) Have we confused âdoing funerals wellâ with being drunk or even just slightly tipsy. Perhaps itâs about time we all had a refresher course in funeral etiquette.

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Rule one: Itâs not about you
Who amongst us doesnât feel the stage fright setting in as they join the procession of condolence givers? Itâs not so much about forgetting your lines-itâs that you never knew them in the first place.
The generic clichĂ©s ride the carousel in your mind as you shuffle up. âIâm sorryâ⊠âhow are you?â keep whirling by. You dismiss them of course. How can you ask how they are? And everyone says they are sorry. But suddenly youâre up. And, under the spotlight and the glare of the congregation behind you, you hear your auto pilot self say- âIâm sorry. How are you doing?â. Itâs the âI carried a watermelonâ of condolences and you kick yourself just as much as Baby did in Dirty Dancing. But remember, itâs not about you.
The person whoâs grieving probably didnât even hear what you said. Theyâre grieving. They just saw that you came and you cared enough to let them know that you do. What you say is irrelevant.
Rule two: Know when to go
The person, people, family, friends are exhausted. Your company is a welcome distraction but itâs not an episode of Come Dine With Me. They shouldnât have to entertain you beyond the allotted time. Most removals will be announced with a start and finish time â and for good reason. What tends to happen is the opposite of the aforementioned tongue tied condolence giver scenario. Itâs the mourner who doesnât know when to shut up. Less is more. Say your piece. But more importantly listen. Perhaps the bereaved has their very own anecdote they want to tell. One that trumps the vague story you struggle to tell in an effort to avoid a grief filled silence.
Donât suddenly ignore all the social cues you have learnt over your lifetime. If a person is yawning in your company â even if they are grieving- it means they are tired and you should go.
Rule three: Out of sight

Every funeral has them. The funeral version of the bridesmaid or groomsman. And we could all learn a thing or two from them. They are the organisers. Behind the scenes they help coordinate the food, clean the cups, talk to the priest and top up the wine. They do it all quietly and without fuss. They wonât let you know which cake they baked or ask for it back. You probably donât even notice them.
These people realised a long time ago â itâs not about them. We should be shadowing them instead of learning our lines.
Rule four: Donât pretend
You are only there to see the living and drink the tea. Pay your respects to the one who has passed. Visit the casket. Donât avoid it because youâre uncomfortable. Youâre supposed to be. They are the mother or father that put a plaster on your grazed knee when you tripped over yourself in the rain. Or who let you take over their kitchen till the early hours to discuss men.. or heartbreak.. or men. Thank them now by having the courage to say goodbye. You owe it to them and the family.
Get over yourself â itâs not about you.
Rule five: Come back
Thereâs strength in the funeral number. For you. But, remember, itâs when the crowds have gone and the dust quietly settles in the weeks and months that follow, that the grief will truly start. Itâs then that your company is really needed. Then, more than ever, that story you struggled to tell on the day of the funeral needs to be told- and heard.


