Justin Standfield

When someone dies, we often imagine the emotions surrounding their funeral will be clear and straightforward - love, loss and sadness. But life isn’t always that tidy. Sometimes, the person who has died was difficult to live with, or the relationship was marked by distance, tension, or hurt that was never quite resolved.

If you find yourself arranging a funeral for someone like that, it can be hard to know how to feel. There might be guilt about what was left unsaid, relief that a difficult chapter has closed, or a deep sadness for the relationship that never quite was. Often, all of these feelings can coexist -  and that can feel confusing.

It’s important to remember that you’re not alone in this. Many families experience these complicated emotions, even though few people speak about them openly. There is no rule that says grief has to be pure or uncomplicated. Relationships are rarely perfect, and the feelings that follow loss are often just as mixed as the lives that shaped them.

I think that society can sometimes make this harder. There’s an unspoken expectation that funerals should be solely about love and reverence. When that doesn’t reflect your reality, it can leave you wondering how to create a ceremony that feels right - or even whether you have the right words at all.

But a meaningful farewell doesn’t have to rewrite the past; it can simply tell the truth of a life with compassion. A ceremony can acknowledge that someone’s story was complex - that they had strengths and struggles, kindnesses and flaws - and still honour their humanity. It doesn’t have to be a portrait of perfection; it can be an honest reflection of who they were and the effect they had on those around them.

As a celebrant, I can help families navigate these tender spaces. Together, we would look for what can be spoken with honesty and care - perhaps moments of shared laughter, a glimpse of what mattered most to that person, or even an acknowledgment of the effort it took to keep connection where it existed. Sometimes, naming that truth brings more peace than avoiding it ever could.

A ceremony built in this way actually becomes something steady and real. It allows people to gather, to remember in their own way and to let go with integrity.

Every relationship is unique, and every goodbye deserves to feel authentic. There’s no single right way to grieve and no rule that says a ceremony must only speak of love. It’s enough for it to speak honestly - of life, humanity and the ties that, however imperfectly, connect us.