#132 Why Wait for the Funeral?

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Hey, this is Melissa Parsons, and you are listening to the Your Favorite You Podcast. I'm a certified life coach with an advanced certification in deep dive coaching. The purpose of this podcast is to help brilliant women like you with beautiful brains create the life you've been dreaming of with intentions. My goal is to help you find your favorite version of you by teaching you how to treat yourself as your own best friend.

If this sounds incredible to you and you want practical tips on changing up how you treat yourself, then you're in the right place. Just so you know, I'm a huge fan of using all of the words available to me in the English language, so please proceed with caution if young ears are around.

Hey there, Your Favorite You listeners. Welcome back to another episode where of course I say the things that many of us are thinking and are too damn polite to say out loud. 

I'm still your host, Melissa Parsons, and today's going to be a little bit different. Let me set the scene. So there I was last week at my Aunt Dolores' funeral surrounded by so many beautiful flowers, so many people crying, and the most amazing stories about her life. And all I could think was, damn, she's missing her own party. Dolores would have really loved this. Side note, ever since the famous Seinfeld episode where Jerry couldn't remember a woman's name but knew it rhymed with the female body part, I have called her Dolores and she hated it, which made us laugh every time that I did it. 

Okay, so back to the funeral. Of course, we had some of our favorite music playing. Our family flew in and drove in from across the country. There were these gorgeous photo montages that her children had made showing her whole beautiful life with all of her friends and family, and everyone was sharing stories about how she affected their lives. People stood in line for over an hour to share what she meant to them with her family with my Uncle Mark and my four cousins, Lisa, Joel, Kara, and Katie. 

And she wasn't there to enjoy any of it. That's kind of when it hit me like a ton of bricks. Why the hell do we wait until someone's gone to throw them the best celebration of their life? And it got me thinking, of course, selfishly about my own upcoming birthday, number 52. 

I can't believe it, but it's another trip around the sun and another opportunity to think about how I want to be loved and remembered. Do I want all the good stuff said about me after I'm gone? Hell no, I want it now. 

Or I can still blush and say, oh, please tell me more. I received that. So today we're getting into it. Why we save our best words for eulogies, why it's so awkward to tell the living how much they mean to us. 

And most importantly, how to change that both by asking for what we need, and by celebrating others while they're still here to enjoy it. So buckle up friends, it might get a little uncomfortable. And if I do my job right, I probably will cry and I'll probably make you cry. 

But I promise you'll leave with some practical ways to spread more love while it still matters. So let's address the elephant in the room. Death makes us honest. There's something about someone being gone forever that suddenly loosens our tongues and opens the floodgates of appreciation. 

We're completely fine sobbing over a casket, but heaven forbid we get a little choked up telling our best friend what they mean to us over coffee. It's like we have this unspoken rule that deep expressions of love and appreciation should be saved for special occasions. 

And apparently the ultimate special occasion is when someone can no longer respond to us. How messed up is that? I've been thinking about this and I think part of the problem is vulnerability. Telling someone how much they matter while they're alive means they might respond. 

They might get uncomfortable. They might reject us. Or worst of all, they might expect us to be that emotionally honest all the time, which would be terrible, right? Listen, I get it. I used to be guilty of this as well. 

I have people in my life who have truly transformed me, who have been with me through some of my darkest moments, and who have of course celebrated my highest highs. And until recently, I didn't sit them down and really tell them what they meant to me. Not the way I would if I were speaking at their funeral. But here's the thing. When we wait until someone's gone to express our deepest appreciation, we're not just robbing them of hearing it. We're robbing ourselves too. 

We miss out on the connection that happens when vulnerability meets gratitude. We miss the chance to deepen relationships while we still have the opportunity. Think about it. Has anyone ever told you how much you mean to them out of the blue? If so, can you remember how that felt? For me, it feels like being wrapped up in a warm blanket on a chilly day. That feeling is available to us anytime we choose to create it, both for ourselves and for the people that we love. 

Now, I'm not suggesting that we walk around making dramatic declarations of love to everyone we meet. Of course, I have the reputation for being inappropriate, but even I have my limits, though my immediate family may argue that this is debatable, of course. 

What I'm suggesting is that we can normalize appreciation for the living, that we stop saving our best words for when they can't hear them, when they can't respond anymore. Don't we all deserve to know the impact we've had while we can still smile and say, you're welcome? Or, it was truly my pleasure. I loved doing that for you. I loved being there for you. All right, let's flip the script a little bit. We've talked about giving appreciation, but what about receiving it? 

Let's be honest, most of us are terrible at asking for what we need, especially when it comes to emotional stuff. Yes, I'm giving you permission to be needy. In fact, I'm telling you it's necessary and vital. 

As I'm staring down the barrel of my 52nd birthday in a couple weeks, I've been thinking a lot about this. What do I actually want for my birthday? Sure, gifts are nice, dinner out is lovely, but what I really want is for the people I love to tell me specific things they love about me. 

I asked for this last year on my birthday, and all the messages that I got from people were such a joy to receive. I want the people that matter to me to remind me of times I've made a difference in their lives. I want to hear the things they'd say at my funeral while I'm still very much alive. But here's the thing, if I don't ask for that, I probably won't get it. People aren't mind readers, and our culture hasn't exactly normalized this kind of emotional honesty. 

Why is it so hard to ask for the love and recognition we crave? Part of it is that we've been conditioned to believe that wanting validation makes us weak or insecure. We have this idea that truly confident people don't need external affirmation, to which I say, bullshit. 

We are social creatures. We need and like to know that we matter. We need and like to know that our presence in others' lives is meaningful. There's nothing weak about acknowledging that need. In fact, I think it takes tremendous strength to be honest about what feeds your soul. 

I think it can be both things. Confidence, of course, comes from internal validation from yourself and external affirmation can also feel very lovely. There is no need for black and white or all or nothing thinking here. Another reason it's hard to ask for the love and recognition we crave is because we're afraid of putting people on the spot. What if they can't think of anything nice to say? What if asking for appreciation creates an awkward obligation? 

But here's something I've learned. Most people want to express appreciation. They just don't know how or when or if it's welcome. By asking, you're not creating an obligation, you're creating an opportunity. 

Again, you don't have to demand it. Saying, I demand my appreciation and I demand my recognition. You can request it without the obligation component. So to get practical, how do you actually ask for the kind of meaningful recognition that you might crave? 

Here are some ideas for you. For your birthday, you could say, this year, what would mean the most to me is hearing specific memories or things you appreciate about me. Would you write me a letter or send me a text or, you know, deliver a voice note, or would you be willing to share something at my party? 

For your partner, I know we both know I love you, but sometimes I need to hear exactly what you love about me. Can we have regular check-ins where we share specific appreciations? I can't tell you how much more connected Jon and I got early on in my marriage coaching when we committed to sharing three new things we appreciated about each other every day. We both looked forward to it. I can still hear Jon saying, I'm ready for my appreciations now. 

For friends, you could say, I'm trying something new where I'm being more open about what makes me happy. One thing that really fills me up and really lights me up is hearing about how our friendship has impacted you. Would you be up for sharing that sometime? Now, will this feel weird at first? Probably. 

Will some people look like you've grown a second head? Maybe. But I promise you, the awkwardness passes and what's left is something beautiful. A relationship where desires are spoken, where appreciation flows freely, and where neither of you has to wait until a funeral to hear how much you matter. 

And by the way, this isn't just about receiving. When you normalize asking for what you need, you also create space for other people to do the same thing. You're giving them the gift of knowing how to love you well and the permission to tell you how to love them well. That's not being needy, that is being a grown-ass human who understands that the best relationships are built on clear communication. 

Now let's talk about how to actively celebrate the people in your life while they're still around to enjoy it. I'm not saying to throw a funeral for your mom while she's still alive, though imagine her face if you did. What if you borrowed some of that funeral energy for the living? Let me tell you another quick story from my aunt's funeral. 

My cousin Joel got up twice and did a wonderful job eulogizing his mom. He talked about how my aunt always made him feel like he was the most important person in the room. How she would stop whatever she was doing to really listen and how she loved each of her children in the ways that they needed and wanted to be loved. 

He was also very honest and said she wasn't always nice in this process and that sometimes she loved you in spite of your wishes, which of course made us all laugh. My cousin knew that he was loved absolutely through all the ups and downs of his life, but hearing all the specific ways other people had experienced his mom's love gave him this whole new perspective. 

All of my cousins told me later when I shared that Aunt D would have surely loved the celebration of her life, said some version of, I wish my mom could have heard this, I wish she knew how many ripples she created. 

So this got me thinking, what if we created opportunities for that kind of sharing while people are still here? So here are some of the ideas that I came up with. I'm sure you could come up with more and I would love to hear from you if you've already done this or if you have ideas, you know, based on what you're hearing me say. 

So the first thing is a birthday appreciation circle. So instead of just singing happy birthday and watching someone blow out their candles, you could create a new tradition where everyone shares one thing they appreciate about the person having the birthday. 

Make it specific, not you're nice, but I love how you always remember to ask about my mom or your laugh always makes my bad days better. Of course, if this kind of attention would make the person you love want to crawl up in a hole and actually die, you can skip this. 

Remember, this is about what the person being celebrated wants, not what you think is best for them. This is actually a reminder for yours truly if I'm being honest. If the person you're celebrating prefers a quieter celebration, you could try what I'm calling the living legacy letter. Write the letter you'd want to read at someone's funeral, but give it to them now. Tell them the impact they've had on your life, the quality you admire, the ways they've changed you, get specific, get emotional, and make it something that they will treasure forever. 

The next thing you could try is an appreciation video. My friend Sara and I did this for our friend Maggie's 50th birthday. We invited a group of people who all loved her to make an entire video montage celebrating her. We shared stories, memories, and inside jokes. Basically, you create a living memorial to the person of honor, and that person actually gets to enjoy it. We took it a step further and presented this to Maggie on Zoom. 

All of our coaching friends are from all over the world, so we met on Zoom, and we invited everyone who submitted a video to come to the Zoom and to see Maggie's reaction, and it was really special. And then finally, you could just do a regular check-in, building appreciation into your regular relationships. 

Maybe it's a weekly practice with your partner where you share three specific things you've appreciated lately. Maybe it's starting team meetings at work by recognizing someone's impact. Make it normal, not just reserved for special occasions. Make it something that you do often. 

Now, I can hear some of you squirming in your seats. That sounds so awkward. People will think I'm weird. What if they get uncomfortable with the intention? Yes, of course, it might be awkward at first. But wouldn't you rather push through a little awkwardness than wish you'd said something when it's too late? I know I would. And as for people being uncomfortable with attention, sure, some people might be. 

But in my experience, even the most attention averse people appreciate genuine, specific, made-for-them recognition. The key is to make it sincere, not performative. Make it about them like I said earlier, not about you showing what a great friend or partner or child you are. 

The beauty of normalizing this kind of appreciation is that it creates ripples. When you start openly celebrating others, you give permission for that kind of emotional honesty to spread. You create a culture in your family, your friendship circle, maybe your workplace, where people's impact is acknowledged while they can still feel it. 

And let me tell you, that can change everything. It changes how people see themselves. It changes how they show up in the world. It changes what they believe is possible in relationships. All because you decided not to wait until they're gone to tell them what they mean to you. 

As I wrap up, I want to leave you with a challenge. Choose one person this week, just one, and tell them why they matter to you. Not in a generic, you're awesome kind of way, but with specificity and depth. Tell them the impact they've had in your life. Tell them what you see in them that perhaps no one else does. Tell them what you'd say if you were speaking at their funeral but do it now over coffee or a meal or a phone call where they can actually hear you. 

Will it feel weird? Probably. Will you stumble over your words? Maybe. Will it matter? I think so because here's what I realized at my aunt's funeral. Every single beautiful thing that was said about her was true while she was alive. Every impact she had, every life she touched, every moment of joy she created, it all happened before she was gone. The only thing that waited for her funeral was our willingness to speak it aloud collectively, beautifully. 

What a waste, don't you think, to save our truest, most appreciative words for when someone can no longer hear them and respond to them? Let's make it weird, people. Let's make appreciation so common that it becomes normal. 

Let's stop waiting for funerals to celebrate lives. As for me, I'm taking my own medicine. With my birthday coming up, I'm not just hoping people will tell me what I mean to them. I'm asking for it explicitly again this year. 

So to all of my friends who will be joining me at dinner, at Miraval, on my birthday, get your appreciations ready, and I'm making a commitment to do the same for the people that I love, not just saving things for special occasions, but regularly, specifically, and genuinely. 

Ultimately, this isn't just about avoiding regrets when someone dies. It's about creating fuller, richer, more honest relationships while we're all still here. It's not about waiting to celebrate the people who make our lives worth living. 

So go on, make it weird, I dare you, and then come back and tell me how it went. Because these stories of connection, they're my favorite kind. Until next time, I want to just simply remind you that the best time to tell someone you love them is always, always now.

Hold up, don't go anywhere. Before we wrap up today, I want to invite you to take the next step in becoming your favorite you. If what we discussed today resonated with you and you're thinking, damn, I want more of this in my life, I have amazing news. 

I'm currently enrolling for my next Your Favorite You group coaching program starting April 23rd. This is a powerful six-month journey where you'll join a carefully curated group of incredible women who, just like you, are ready to stop settling for good enough and create lives that they truly love. 

Here's the thing, the window to join is closing soon. The last day to schedule your complimentary consult with me is April 18th. During this one-hour call, we'll explore if this group is the right fit for you and you'll walk away with clarity regardless. 

I only open enrollment a few times each year and several awesome women have already said yes to themselves and yes to joining us. So if something inside you is saying, maybe I should do this, I encourage you to listen to that voice and book a consult. 

You've got nothing to lose and potentially so much to gain. Visit melissaparsonscoaching.com forward slash group to grab a time on my calendar. I can't wait to connect with you and show you what's possible when you decide to become a favorite version of yourself. 

Until next time, remember you don't have to do this alone.