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Funerals during the pandemic: Weird, different and better

I was in my parents’ kitchen when we got the news. 

Rob, a man my father knew for my whole life, had passed away after being caught in an avalanche. 

This was in April, a month after the World Health Organization had declared COVID-19 a pandemic. So in the midst of our grief, we wondered if there would be a funeral. 

There was one, five days later, but it was different than it would have been under normal circumstances. 

The service that would have normally been held inside a church would be held entirely outdoors.

It was in a cemetery in Teton County, Idaho, surrounded by hills and farm fields. The ground was completely covered with snow, but it was warm enough that we didn’t need jackets. The sky was blue. 

Our friend was a man who spent nearly all of his time outdoors, especially in the snow. “God’s country,” he often called it. So, as we all stood in the cemetery, I kept hearing people say the same thing.

“This is how he would’ve wanted it.”

This outdoor funeral was much more fitting to our friend’s personality and lifestyle than what it would’ve been otherwise — an indoor service in a stuffy chapel under fluorescent lights.

And this has gotten me thinking: maybe this pandemic has opened our eyes to different, better ways to grieve. 

Harley Barnes, a student at Utah State University, attended a service at the beginning of November for her great-grandfather Reed. 

Her family decided to just do a small viewing in McCammon, Idaho, instead of a larger funeral. 

“It wasn’t a funeral where you go and hear talks and everyone is able to be there,” she said. “It was just close family.”

This service was different. People who wanted to attend couldn’t. Older family members also couldn’t come due to health risks. Barnes didn’t get to hear her family recount Reed’s life. 

But in some ways, Barnes said, these changes made the overall experience better.

There’s a lot of planning involved with funerals, and it’s especially stressful to plan things during a pandemic. Since there was a limit on attendees and less pressure on the service overall, Barnes said she was grateful her grandma didn’t have to go through as much stress as she would have for a typical funeral. 

“I know you get a lot of help with funerals and people serve the family, but it was nice to have it be smaller and just the family instead of assigning talks, figuring out who will do this or that,” Barnes said. 

In addition to less stress and more personal family time, Barnes said there was another surprising perk from the pandemic: masks.

“Masks are kinda nice, as weird as that sounds, because you can totally just ugly cry and not really worry about who sees you,” Barnes said.

USU freshman Kai Beattie attended a funeral for his friend Kyle in October. The service, held in Ashton, Idaho, was done outside so attendees could social distance. 

Beattie described the event as “very, very weird.”

For some reason it felt less solemn than a regular service in a chapel,” he said. “Normally when you go into a church for something like this, it feels suffocatingly somber, like a really heavy atmosphere.”

Though the service was different than any other funeral Beattie had been to, he said different was good. 

The service was short, which meant less stress for Kyle’s family, but Beattie said the best part was the music. Kyle loved the Grateful Dead, and the rock band’s songs were played through speakers at the funeral. 

“I definitely think Kyle approved of the music selection, which probably wouldn’t have flown in the chapel,” Beattie said. “And I think he would’ve preferred the funeral to be outside.”

… 

Maggie Mattinson, a USU student, lost her friend Reece over the summer. She felt the negative impacts of the pandemic at the service. 

“Funerals are times when I want to be close with people and the pandemic is so against that,” she said. 

The service was held in August at Brighton Resort. Because of the travel restrictions, the ski resort livestreamed the service so people who were unable to physically attend could still watch. 

Reece and his family loved to travel. They spent some time living in an RV and went all over the United States. They also did service trips in other countries, so they met a lot of people. And those people were able to mourn and remember Reece because of that online option. 

“It was important for those people to watch the service online when they normally wouldn’t be able to see it,” Mattinson said. 

Mattinson said a few aspects of the service felt “normal.” At the beginning, Reece’s siblings, parents and girlfriend spoke and shared stories. His uncle performed a song on the guitar.

“All the memories shared were so beautiful,” Mattinson said. “It was the perfect balance of laughs and tears. He was a hilarious person so it felt right to have funny stories shared.” 

Untraditional as they seem, these funerals felt right to the people who attended them. The COVID-19 pandemic has indirectly allowed people to grieve in different, but seemingly better ways. 

The pandemic has changed the way we learn, work and interact, and some of those changes could be permanent. Maybe the way we grieve will be changed forever too. 

After all, under normal circumstances, Rob’s funeral would’ve been inside some stuffy church that he didn’t even attend. 

Instead, he got his funeral outside in the place he loved most: God’s country. 

And it was better that way.