What is it Like to Attend Your Child's Funeral?
The Hardest Day is the Day After the Funeral
The pace of text messages eases.
The phone calls slow.
Everyone else gets back to life.
You don’t.
The funeral director told us they had never seen so many people at a viewing before. The line stretched around the corner and down the block. It was like from the doors opening until they closed. I vaguely remember it. I remember tears, hugs, and people trying to say the right thing.
But mostly, I remember feeling like I was the one comforting them. Supporting friends and neighbours as they tried to process the loss of a young girl taken far too soon.
Then the next day came.
The house was quiet.
The crowd was gone.
And that’s when grief truly hit. Not during the Celebration of Life ceremony, or at the graveside, but in the silence that followed. When the chair at the dinner table stayed empty, her bedroom door remained closed and the reality of loss settled in.
I lost my daughter Maddie to suicide at 14. And here’s what I’ve learned: grief doesn’t end when the funeral does. It moves in the day after. And the day after that. Grief is the occupant that doesn’t adhere to any of the rules.
Before the funeral, before the grief, before the obvious struggle, there’s a window of time where mentorship can step in.
It’s when kids start pulling away, not quite children anymore, not yet adults. They’re testing boundaries, flexing independence, trying to figure out who they are. At The MentorWell, we call this the Thriving Zone.
That’s the moment where mentorship matters.
That’s where hope can take root.
That’s when one caring adult, outside the family, can make all the difference.
If you’ve ever lost someone, you know the ache doesn’t go away.
If you’ve ever loved a teen, you know silence can be dangerous.
So here’s my ask of you:
Don’t disappear after the funeral. Keep showing up.
Don’t wait for a crisis. Step in during the Thriving Zone.
Don’t believe love alone will shield them. Most times it takes more.
Maddie’s story didn’t end at her funeral. And neither should our responsibility to grieving families, or to teens walking through that fragile in-between stage of life.
Because what we do the day after, and the days before, is what matters most.
👉 Learn more about MentorWell, a promise built in Maddie’s memory, so no one walks through the silence alone.
