When it's difficult to find the right words

Last week a close family friend, Adelaide, died. My daughter was named after her. This blog is about how I supported Adelaide's daughter to find the right words to say at her funeral this week.

My husband recieved a call: "Tell me what I should say about Adelaide". He replied along the lines of "I'll have to think about it - I'll speak to Karen and we'll call you back". I responded by saything that I'd visit her at the weekend, kids in tow: they always bring light to a sad situation.

And on Sunday afternoon, Adelaide's daughter and I got onto the conversation of what she should say at the funeral. I could think of a thousand wonderful sentiments, but from my perspective, it was important that Adelaide's daughter came up with the right words and wonderful memories that should be shared with family and friends. Adelaide's daughter was so struck with grief that she found it too hard to do this by herself.

I felt that this was an area where my coaching skills would be of benefit. I thought of a number of key questions, which I worked through with Adelaide's daughter:
"What brought a twinkle to her eyes?"
"What was it that was special about Adelaide that made your dad want to make her his wife?"
"What did you mum give you when you needed it most?"
"What did all the staff in her care home say about her when they were consoling you?"

Each question lead to another one, and within 30 minutes we had a reasonable list of interests, personal qualtities and reasons why we will miss her. It sounds easy when I put it down in writing. But it was important that we approached this with the right sentiment: we ended the conversation celebrating a life as we moved our emotions from grief to temporary happiness.

Adelaide's daughter thanked me as I left. I only contributed one memory to the list: she was an avid ballroom dancer in her youth: she would have beaten off all the competition in Strictly!

So, my thoughts this week are for a life that has passed: Although I have only known Adelaide for 9 years, I will miss her and her sense of humour. I will miss our chats whilst we waited for everybody else to arrive at the dinner table. I will miss the fact that my children will never know her. This blog is for you, Adelaide.