When Words Heal

What the NFDA’s Latest Study Reveals About How We Talk and How Families Hear Us

The young funeral director paused mid-sentence. Across the table, a grieving daughter furrowed her brow. The director had just said the words “memorial service,” assuming everyone knew what that meant. But the daughter quietly asked, “Is that the same thing as a funeral? Or more like a celebration of life?”

That small moment, an honest question born from confusion, captures a truth now backed by national data. According to the National Funeral Directors Association’s 2025 guide, When Words Matter: A Funeral Director’s Guide to Clear and Compassionate Communication, what we say and what families hear are often two very different things.

The guide draws from a national survey of more than 1,100 Americans across four generations, exploring how consumers talk and think about funerals. What it uncovered should give every funeral professional pause: the vocabulary that feels second nature to us—words like “viewing,” “memorial,” and “direct cremation”—often means something entirely different to the people we serve.

That difference in understanding can determine whether a family walks away comforted or confused.

The Generational Divide: One Profession, Four Languages

Every generation brings its own way of processing death and meaning. The NFDA study makes this plain.

Baby boomers tend to expect faith, formality, and presence. Gen X often seeks balance, something respectful but not rigid. Millennials lean toward personalization and transparency. Gen Z, the youngest generation of adults, values choice, clarity, and emotional safety above all else.

For funeral professionals, that is not a set of stereotypes; it is a map. If we keep speaking one language to four generations, we will keep losing meaning. A phrase like “service” can sound ceremonial to a boomer, transactional to Gen X, optional to a millennial, and entirely unfamiliar to Gen Z.

The opportunity is not to choose one approach over another. It is to listen deeply enough to translate tradition into relevance. When we adapt our tone, phrasing, and examples to the people in front of us, we do not water down the profession. We make it understood.

Lost in Translation: The Language Gap

One of the study’s most striking findings is how few consumers define our most common terms correctly. Only 16 percent of respondents knew that a “memorial service” means a ceremony without the body present. Only 25 percent had heard of the term “direct cremation,” and among those who had, many associated it with “cheap,” “fast,” or “no ceremony.”

This is not about intelligence. It is about context. Families do not live in the funeral world; we do. What sounds simple to us can sound technical, even cold, to them.

The NFDA guide invites us to rethink the vocabulary we have inherited. Replace jargon with empathy. Replace efficiency with clarity. When a family asks about cremation, for instance, instead of saying “traditional or direct,” try:

“Would you like a ceremony before the cremation, or something simpler?”

That one sentence transforms a transaction into a conversation. It replaces confusion with choice, and choice is where healing begins.

Presence and the Power of Seeing

If there is one theme that reveals both beauty and misunderstanding, it is presence.

Funeral directors have long known that seeing the body, being physically present, helps families accept reality and begin to heal. Yet the survey shows that many younger consumers feel uncertain or even uncomfortable with viewing. Nearly a quarter described the experience as “awkward” or “creepy,” while others called it “sad but important.” Still others later admitted feeling like something was missing when there was no opportunity to see their loved one one last time.

That tension is where our words matter most. Too often, the question “Do you want a viewing?” feels binary and sterile. The NFDA’s recommendation reframes it beautifully:

“What would feel meaningful to see or include during the service?”

It is a subtle shift, from a technical choice to an emotional invitation.

When we use language that honors both discomfort and need, we help families discover that seeing is not about morbidity. It is about memory. Presence, whether in the form of a casket, an urn, or even photographs, allows the living to anchor their grief in reality. When words frame that presence as healing rather than required, families often find comfort they did not know they needed.

Tone, Place, and Meaning

The survey also highlights how perceptions of tone and location vary by generation.

Older adults overwhelmingly view funerals as formal and somber events, often in a church or funeral home. Younger generations, however, are reimagining what remembrance looks like: outdoor spaces, music, laughter, coffee, and storytelling.

This is not a rejection of tradition. It is a rebalancing of meaning. For many, grief feels less about format and more about authenticity. When a director asks, “Where would you like the service to take place?” and follows with, “What setting would feel most like your loved one?” it signals openness rather than assumption.

For the next generation of professionals, this flexibility is a superpower. The goal is not to modernize everything. It is to make every choice intentional. Whether the family chooses a chapel, a barn, or a backyard, the meaning is what makes it sacred.

Rewriting the Script: A New Lexicon of Compassion

The NFDA’s guide includes a series of word swaps that at first glance seem small but carry enormous emotional weight. Consider these examples:

Instead of This...	Try Saying This...	Why It Works
“Direct cremation”	“A simple option where cremation happens right after death, and you can still hold a service later.”	Adds clarity and comfort.
“Disposition paperwork”	“Let’s take care of the final arrangement paperwork.”	Removes anxiety.
“Cremains”	“Your loved one’s ashes.”	Feels human and personal.
“Viewing”	“A chance to say goodbye with your loved one present.”	Connects emotion to purpose.

These adjustments are not cosmetic. They are cultural. They remind us that professionalism and compassion are not opposites; they are allies.

When we choose warmth over jargon, we model what every grieving family hopes to feel: safety.

A Profession in Translation

The NFDA’s research points to a larger truth: the profession itself is in a moment of translation.

We are bridging generations not only of consumers but also of professionals, each with different expectations for language, formality, and technology. Early-career directors often feel caught between honoring the vocabulary of their mentors and meeting the conversational tone of modern families.

The way forward is not either-or. It is both-and. The study’s 90-day action plan is a practical blueprint for that balance.

In the first two weeks, teams are encouraged to read the guide, reflect, and discuss what language might unintentionally confuse families.

In 30 days, they begin roleplaying real conversations, experimenting with phrasing and tone.

By 60 days, they revise websites, brochures, and scripts, replacing technical terms with plain, human language.

By 90 days, they have built a shared standard for communication that can evolve with time.

It is not about training staff to “say the right thing.” It is about cultivating awareness. Every word becomes part of the service we provide.

Why This Matters for the Next Generation

For early-career professionals, this research is more than a communication guide. It is a calling.

It is permission to slow down in a profession that often feels rushed. It is a reminder that empathy and precision are not opposites but companions. And it is an invitation to lead, not just through arrangements and logistics, but through language that heals.

Because words do heal. They hold space when actions cannot. They build trust when grief feels raw. They turn a transaction into a ministry.

And as the NFDA’s study reminds us, when we meet families where they are, in both language and understanding, we do not just plan services. We create moments that shape memory and begin healing.

Final Reflection: When Words Heal

Change is never comfortable, especially in a profession built on tradition. But When Words Matter offers a vision that honors both past and progress.

As the guide’s closing reminds us:

“Families don’t need perfection. They need presence, empathy, and clarity. The words we choose today will shape the stories they carry for a lifetime.”

For those entering the profession, that is the challenge and the promise: to speak in ways that restore dignity, reduce confusion, and reveal meaning.

Not because language replaces compassion, but because language delivers it.