Hi, I'm Dr. Laura Schlessinger, ready to answer another YouTube question for you. This one is very heartbreaking, from Eva:
My nephew died recently in an accident after celebrating his 28th birthday with his friends and girlfriend. She was there when he fell 70 feet to his death. My sister (his mother), was not notified until the next morning by the girl's dad and has since been in a daze. I have never seen my sister act this way. [Wow, to lose your kid...] On top of all our pain and dealing with all the details of the funeral, this girlfriend's parents have been insistent that we include their daughter's feelings, pictures and opinions at the funeral. Mind you, we only met her once or twice.
I'm the aunt who will be putting the slideshow together and am very bothered that my sister is so out of it that she would consider putting this girl's picture in the slides when no other family members but the main core are included, because we decided to keep it short in church. I don't mind putting a slideshow of his life up, including her, for the gathering afterwards.
What is the right thing to do? Do these people override the rest of the family who loved and supported him throughout the years?
He loved her. She has lost the love of her life. This is a major agony for this young woman, as it is for the family. She saw her future with him. She's in a lot of pain and she meant something to him, so to honor him I can't see how you would not include her.
I realize that you feel a little protective and territorial. And even though you only met her once or twice, they were something important to each other and we have to acknowledge her pain and her loss even though she did not know him since the day he was born.
So while I do appreciate your point of view in sort of being very protective, watching your sister suffer so much... But I think having the young woman whom her son loved there in picture and in person will mean something important. So yeah, I don't think you're doing the right thing. Include the pictures. I'm really sorry for your family. I've got a son, 26; I can't imagine that kind of pain.