​I was about 20 or 21 – at the peak of my “singing career”, so to speak, and I was asked to sing at a funeral. I advertised my services quite often, and sang at weddings, did back up on record albums, did the national anthem at different events, and in this case, was hired to do a funeral.

I had never been to a funeral before, and did not know this family, so I thought, “How hard can it be?”…(side note – pretty sure that will be written on my tomb stone one day…).  I worked along side the music director at the church I attended at the time, so I knew this would be easy. Go in, sing a song – make it real of course, have an egg salad sandwich, then leave and go about my day. Seriously – piece of cake.

I arrived at the church a little early, and we decided to do a simple song, based on scripture, that we felt would speak to just about anyone. Not sad, not bouncy, just comforting. 

We practiced a little, and got ready for the ceremony, sat in our seats and waited to begin. Then it happened. The most unthinkable, seemingly cold-hearted reaction you could think of. I began to laugh. Not just a small chuckle, or a sheepish grin. As the people came in, I began to laugh so very hard, that my shoulders were shaking.

“How could this be?  Am I really an ice queen?  Seriously, stop. You’ve got to stop. Ok. Plan b.  Bow your head, and put a kleenex to your nose. DO NOT let them see your face. Get a grip!  You’ve got to sing in a moment.”

I managed to gain my composure, walked up on the stage and sing my song. I’m sure I did a fine job, after all this wasn’t my first performance, just my first funeral performance.

Once I had left the sanctuary, a sudden wave of fear and disappointment came over me. How could I have been so horrible and laugh at other people’s pain when I sincerely did not think it was funny?  I was incredibly surprised and bothered by it. 

Not long after, a dear friend of mine lost her father, and I was asked to sing at his life celebration.  I was absolutely terrified, based on my reaction the last time. I was so scared to have an inappropriate reaction, I almost said no.  Almost. 

I went to the celebration, which was a wonderful tribute to his life. We laughed, cried, told stories, and celebrated the life of a wonderful man. My time came to sing, and this time, I did not laugh. It was hard to choke back the tears. The church was filled to capacity, and although my voice was a little shaky at first, I belted out an old Southern Gospel hymn in his memory. I would have been devastated to lose my grip on stage, but this time, it went as planned. Since then, I have sang at every funeral I’ve attended, and have not laughed. Why?  I think because I experienced it on a personal level and understood. 

My point in all of this is not to discuss my long lost singing career.  My point is, that unless you have experienced something yourself, it becomes very hard to relate to, and sometimes, our reactions can seem inappropriate and misunderstood.

I could tell you 500 different stories, and we might connect on a certain level on some, and on others, I can pretty much assure you, you’d have no idea how to respond. Whatever response you did have, might even catch you off guard.

Is that a bad thing?  Not at all.  In fact, I’m writing this so that you know, it’s ok not to understand. Really. There is no real way for you to understand unless you’ve been in it yourself. Don’t even try. 

What I am suggesting, is that if you catch yourself in an emotion or reaction you don’t understand, give yourself a little time to think about it. Dont try to relate – just listen. Be there. There’s probably nothing you can solve – and you aren’t expected to. Be there, and listen. 

Sometimes, you just need to show up. Invaluable. No solution necessary.