Funerals are for the living. It’s a difficult thought to get through our heads because we are convinced that funerals are for the dead. We have been taught that all our lives. However, I believe funerals are for the living.

Week before last, I was notified of six deaths in a 24-hour period. I needed to attend each of those funerals. I could not attend all of them, two of which were set the same day and hour. And there were various other conflicts and complications with which to deal. As I decided which death related activities to attend, I kept in mind that funerals are for the living.

One Sunday last year, my 93-year-old pastor, C. A. Lett, said that he wanted his funeral to be less than preferably an hour. I told him that he knew too many people and too many knew him for a funeral of that limited duration. I said, “There is no way that your funeral will be that short. People from all over Alabama and across the United states will insist on speaking. Besides, funerals are for the living.”

A couple of weeks ago, I engaged in a discussion with two women from my church. I said that I did not care what they did with me when I died: They can have a short funeral, a long funeral or something in between. I accept the fact that funerals are for the living.

I also shared with the ladies that my wife said she would prefer a short funeral for me and herself. I said there was no way she would have a short funeral for me. I can just see her adding more songs, more speakers, more expressions, etc. I know that she will decide that funerals are for the living and act accordingly.

Several years ago, the husband of a dear friend died. They had spent many years together and were well up in age. The wife said that she was in so much pain from the passing that she wanted the services at the funeral home to be very short. She asked me to do the eulogy, but specified that it had to be no more than five minutes. She also told me her deceased husband wanted the shortest possible funeral. I agreed to do the eulogy on her terms.

When I began speaking, I observed her body language changing. I saw some of the weight lifting from her before my very eyes. I knew she needed to hear more. I continued for about 12 minutes, violating her specific directions in the process. After the funeral she said, “I am so glad you didn’t listen to me. You made me feel so much better. I could have listened to you some more.” I said, “Funerals are for the living, not the dead.”

I have reached that age when funerals come regularly, much too regular. I am a couple years from 70, and I know a lot of people. These combinations produce many death notices. I just have to remember that funerals are for the living, not the dead, as I struggle with the inevitable conflicts.

When I say that funerals are for the living, I mean that they help the living deal with their loss, grief, pain, struggles, fears, hopes, needs and so forth. If a funeral is too short or too restricted it does not help in the ways needed. Therefore, the recovery from the death may be much longer. The same is true for funerals that are too long.

I recognize that every culture deals differently with death-related activities, such as funerals. I recently went to the family visitation of a good friend’s mother. The family was white. There was food at the visitation, which was something I had not seen before. At death-related activities for blacks, we eat after the funeral but not at or after the family visitation.

Several of us at the visitation began discussing the differences between white funeral-related activities and those of black funerals: the time between death and burial; the freedom of those not on programs to speak; the use of songs and music; visitation; and so forth. There are lots of differences based upon the cultures. And of course, funerals are for the living.

Several weeks ago, the mother by marriage of a friend in the Alabama senate died. I knew that he had a special relationship with her. I repeatedly tried to talk with him by phone without success. I left a message on his voice mail saying what I would have said had I reached him in person. When he and his wife saw me at the visitation, both told me that they had saved the message because it was so meaningful to them. It was a really emotional moment for them and for me. Even before I made it to them in the line, I could see by his reaction how much my presence meant. Funerals are for the living.

Another senator had a close family member to die recently. I could not make it to any death-related activities but I talked directly with him on the phone. I was glad I did. I believe he was also glad. Funerals are for the living.

When death strikes home, I tell myself that God knows what God is doing. I believe that so deeply I don’t have to ask God “why?” Neither do I have to understand. I go on knowing it’s all a part of God’s plan. It’s the living that seek peace. The dead are at peace. Funerals are for the living.

Sen. Hank Sanders represents Dallas County in the Alabama Legislature.