Having led several funeral services for friends and family, I know first hand how this is quite simply unlike any other sort of public speaking you will ever do.
The thought of speaking at a funeral or memorial service can feel completely overwhelming.
Will I be able to? What if I choke/cry/need to take a pause?
Are my words ‘good’ enough?
You want to do them proud, to get yourself through it without falling apart… and there is a huge part of your brain screaming at you that you don’t want to be doing it at all!
I find that people often fall into two camps – the ones who know that speaking at a funeral quite simply isn’t something they have to do, and that, for them, they need to be carried through the service, happy to leave all the speaking to me.
And then there are those who want to… some to lead the main tribute and, for others, it’s this tiny glimmer of ‘I would like to be able to, but maybe not a full tribute, maybe a short poem…’
All are valid, and I am not here to make anyone do anything they do not want to do.
But I am here to support you to do whatever it is you want and need to do. And that includes supporting you to speak, if you have even this tiny glimmer of ‘I would like to try…’
This is not traditional public speaking, this is not a presentation at work. Everyone there is on your side, and emotion is not only totally allowed, but in a way, expected.
Think of it this way – if you were sat at a different service, watching someone give a tribute to someone they loved, and they got a bit teary, or had to take a breath, would you think badly of them? Or would your heart reach out to them?
I bet it’s the latter.
A few things which may help…
Seriously. You may wish to write the main tribute. Or that might feel too daunting. You might want to share more personal memories, or perhaps a letter, and work with me to wrap their story around the tribute you want to share.
Dear Mum/Dad/Granddad/Nan can feel a lot easier and more personal than knowing where to start with something larger.
You can choose a poem, a reading, or maybe an extract from their favourite book, which feels right to share as part of their service.
You could read the shipping forecast, or their daily horoscope, if that’s what they read every day, and it felt right!
Have a backup/wingperson for the day who has a copy of what you’re going to say, and step in if needed (already sorted – me! See, you’ve got this down!)
Have it printed in a big, clear front (I use Open Sans in a size 16), and break the paragraphs up into smaller chunks. I also don’t like paragraphs to split over pages, so that I can finish that section of speech before turning a page.
Practice… I’m sure you’re doing this. Make a little mark, a red star maybe, against any bits which always seem to catch you out. This is a reminder to take a breath at this points.
And when you get up on the day… take a big deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth, to start. This helps settle your sympathetic nervous system, with the added bonus of supplying you with valuable oxygen. You cannot speak without oxygen! Fight or flight has a tendency to kick in, and you’ll want to rush through it to get it over with, so the trick is to slow everything down a fraction.
The getting started is the hardest part – then, honestly, something usually kicks in from somewhere…
Don’t worry about looking up at people – if you need to keep your head down to get through it, do it.
The fact that you are even thinking about wanting to stand up puts you with the handful of people who try. The others will be in awe of you, and will be cheering you on. Trust me.
Something which has really helped me when speaking at the funerals of people I love… I found that having something in my hand helped channel some of all the angst, all the ‘bleugh’ I was feeling, and gave it an outlet, which allowed me to speak more easily.
So have a hair tie on your wrist, or a tissue in your hand, which you can squeeze or fiddle with. Perhaps try it when you’re practicing, and see if it helps you.
I’ve got your back, I promise.