Beautiful. I so appreciate this. After my father died I wrote a tribute. I told my stepmom I needed someone to read it at the service because I KNEW I'd break down. I was a sobbing pile when I wrote it. Forget about read it.

The day prior my stepmom and a minister friend begged me to read my tribute. So I tried, for one minute. Then I broke down and couldn't speak through my sobs. My brother took over. Then I sat down and wept while my 8-year-old daughter took my hand. I HATED being at this particular service. I hated my private grief being on public display for strangers (This was one of two services. This one was held in my stepmom's town so several folks showed up who'd never met my father. They were there out of respect for my stepmom). I however, felt in a fishbowl.

We often expect the grieving to share words about their loved one during a funeral. But we can't all do it, nor should we have to. Grief is deeply personal and primal.