Turning Toward Death, Together
Originally published as “Have We Forgotten How to Care for Our Dead?” by the Home Funeral Alliance on September 14, 2026
Is it truly our most human instinct to resist caring for the bodies of our beloved dead, or is it modern social conditioning?
This is admittedly a question I consider more often than most as an end-of-life doula and home funeral guide. And I’m so honored to have these conversations often, especially through my volunteer work with Emberlight: Center for Conscious Living & Dying. Here, an active and deeply connected deathcare community stands fully engaged and ready to support any person who dies with us that wants to receive family-led after-death care.
This care can take the form of facilitating a solemn space to spend more time with the body of their dear person than they might have previously considered, a guided ritual bathing and anointing, a full 1 to 3 day vigil in our parlor, or any combination of care in between. This is offered to every family that dies with us at Emberlight, and every family I serve in my personal end-of-life care practice.
Most people whom I’ve had the honor to walk this path with have been initially uncertain about the idea of receiving or participating in this form of care. Often they’ve never heard of a ritual bathing or anointing, let alone lying in honor in the middle of the house!
But what I’ve witnessed, time and again, is that when offered and given time to consider, most people do lean into some form of after-death connection. And still, family-led care is not the norm, and most people don’t even know it’s possible and legal in all 50 states, to varying degrees.
In addition to this general lack of awareness, I’ve noticed the pervasive idea that family-led after-death care and home funerals are only desired by people receiving a natural burial, an idea I’ve personally found to be untrue. Instead, what I’ve found is that when offered, any configuration of funeral care and disposition can be enhanced by the opportunity to engage with our dead. I’ve personally supported the after-death care of far more people being cremated than receiving a green burial, due entirely to the simple invitation to participate.
Here the question bubbles up again, “Is it truly our most human instinct to resist caring for the bodies of our beloved dead, or is it modern social conditioning?”
More recently, my community care has expanded to include volunteering with the Trauma Intervention Program of Western North Carolina, a group of trained volunteers who are called to the scene of traumatic incidents to offer emotional first aid and practical support, most often in the immediate moments after an overdose, suicide, or unexpected natural death.
In this space, I have found that in almost all cases, the survivor I’m supporting has an intense need to see their person. To be sure it’s them, to know that this is real, and to hold their hand or touch their face one last time. It’s almost as if the immediacy of the moment overrides any fear or social conditioning, and it’s illuminating to me that this need shows up so strongly and so often.
Facilitating these goodbye moments has become one of the most meaningful parts of this work for me. Even when a person isn't in a state that emergency responders might consider viewable, a complex topic Anna Jordan touched on in a recent Home Funeral Alliance podcast, emergency personnel in my area have been incredibly accommodating when asked.
They'll thoughtfully expose a part of the body not impacted by trauma, often covering the body bag with a pristine and freshly pressed white sheet, or leaving an arm free outside the bag so a hand can still be held one last time. I don't believe that's the intended purpose for their sheets, but it always feels intentional and reverent in ways I hadn't expected in such scenarios.
Research supports the idea that the intense desire for presence with the deceased person is indeed the norm and not the exception. One study by researchers Chapple and Ziebland of 80 people bereaved because of suicide or other traumatic death found that when given the option, although decisions varied, those who chose to view the body wanted to do so for more reasons than just identification. Particularly interesting to me is their finding that “seeing the body brought home the reality of death; it could be shocking or distressing, but, in this sample, few who did so said they regretted it.”
The same study found another important consideration in whether viewing or caring for a deceased family member will leave a lasting positive or negative impression.
Time.
Allowing time for a family member to decide whether to view their person or not is an important indicator of positive outcomes, and one of the most powerful arguments for the value of home funerals, in my view.
A vigil period allows family and friends the opportunity to engage on whatever timeline feels right for them. Perhaps when others are gathered around and tears will flow unnoticed, or when everyone else has gone to gather flowers or share a meal.
Interestingly, the importance of being well prepared for a viewing by a professional or a person skilled in having these conversations is noted frequently by researchers. As identified in a study published in the International Journal of Palliative Nursing, these skilled communications are a critical indicator of positive outcomes, and point to the need for thoughtful support in every corner of end-of-life and after-death care.
Another study titled “The Transformative Meanings of Viewing or Not Viewing the Body After Sudden Death” speaks not only to the meaning and healing found in viewing the deceased, but goes on to share that for many of those interviewed, caring for their dead offered moments of deep reverence, and sometimes even joy.
This revelation does not surprise me at all, as I have witnessed and experienced joy with every family I’ve supported following an anticipated death, and here Mowll finds joy can be equally present even in traumatic instances.
When’s the last time you danced around the body of a beloved person to their favorite Queen song? I highly recommend it.
And when I return to the question at hand, it’s clear to me that we, at our most human level, understand that being with our dead is an integral part of our human journey. That we recognize, at least subconsciously, that there is something sacred and healing about witnessing and tending to our own.
I think there’s a tremendous amount of room for discussion about family-led after-death care, from the site of traumatic events to hospices to funeral homes, and every point in between. Room to consider what our most basic human needs actually are, and whether we may have pulled too far back from family-led care in a potentially misguided effort to “protect”.
I also recognize that my experience does not reflect every person, and that there will always be people who turn away from death, whether it be out of disgust, fear, or unfamiliarity. But I can’t help but wonder what healing and connection might be possible if we turned toward death just a little bit more, together.