I feel guilty over my husband’s funeral

SETTING down thoughts in a proper letter or email can, indeed, be helpful — especially these days, when too many people think texts and messages on social media count as real communication.

Since we’re still in January I’d love everybody to make a 2024 resolution that they’ll telephone and/or write letters (which can be emails, too) and act on that old BT motto: ‘It’s good to talk.’

anyway, here you are talking to me, and surely not alone in feeling weighed down by regret after a bereavement. It hasn’t even been a year, so it’s vital to understand that grief can break over you in waves, even many years after a loss.

Never mind that your husband had been ill for a long time; it’s quite likely you were still in denial about the inevitable. Perhaps you were simply too tired at the end to face the thoughtful organisation of the ‘right’ cremation. I think you can — and should — make excuses for yourself. Surely he would hate it that you are so consumed with pointless guilt?

You nudge me to make an important point. How many of us set down, in a considered document, how we would like our final rites of passage to be conducted?

Ritual is important and even the simplest cremation service can serve as a meaningful transition from death to the continuation of life. The right piece of music, a passage or poem the dead person loved: such things matter. That’s why it’s a wise decision for all of us to write down our preferences while we are living.

Save your loved ones the agony of trying to think of details while grieving your loss. I know people who have mapped out their own funerals — and they were very beautiful. The truth is, I’m writing this as a stern memorandum to myself.

one way of coping with the sort of fruitless guilt you describe is to devise a small private ritual to make up for what you now feel was a lack of care.

You could set up your husband’s photograph in a corner, put a lit candle before it, play music he loved and just sit for a while and talk to him. Take it slow — and repeat when the intrusive thoughts occur.

Strange magic can happen through such mindful actions, so why not give it a try?

Far more significant, it seems to me, is your regret about not paying enough attention to your grandchildren. That is something that can be acted upon.

Why did you stay with the adults? Perhaps because they wanted you to, because it was fun, or because the kids were absorbed with their presents. Why make it into a Big Thing?

Just be sure to see plenty of them in the coming months, and play with and read to them as much as they want. There’s quite a few years ahead before they want to do their own thing, so don’t let the past ruin the present. and don’t let pointless self-flagellation become self-absorption.