The memorial is one day, planned in the worst week of your life, and everyone has opinions. Here's what actually needs deciding, what can be handed off, and the two things worth protecting for yourself.
Only you can decide
- The shape of it: religious or not, big or tiny, burial or cremation - if they left wishes, those decide; if not, 'what would they have rolled their eyes at?' is a surprisingly reliable compass
- Who speaks (and who, honestly, shouldn't)
- The one or two touches that make it them: the song, the terrible shirt everyone must wear, the dish at the wake
Delegate without guilt
- Flowers, food, printing, chairs, parking, livestream - every one of these is somebody's 'what can I do?' answered
- Fielding the phone: appoint one spokesperson so news and logistics don't all route through you
- The door on the day: someone else greets, so you're not doing hospitality with your grief
Protect these two things
- Five minutes alone with them, or with their photo, or just outside - before or after. The day belongs to everyone; five minutes of it must belong to you
- The right not to perform: you don't have to speak, hold up, or be 'a rock.' Attending your person's funeral is the whole job
However the day goes - whatever goes wrong, whoever behaves badly - the memorial is not the measure of your love. It's one loud day in a love that was mostly quiet ones.