A few years ago one of my sisters kids, a son who was 6 years old, passed away. My own daughter is his age, and it was the biggest gut punch of my life, by a country mile. I’m tearing up just writing this.
I’m the only one in my family who isn’t Christian, and I’m a firm atheist. My family is Protestant, though. My sister had recently moved and her pastor from her old church flew down. He was a really nice guy all in all, and was a fantastic support to them during an unimaginable time.
He led the funeral service, and honestly did a great job. He talked mostly about my nephew, and about my sister’s family, and didn’t shy from the overall tragedy.
Yet despite that, I left the service with an extreme emptiness inside. I wasn’t mad at him, or at my family for leaning on their beliefs in that awful time, but the catharsis they got out of that service was completely unavailable to me. I sat there hearing all of these empty promises about meeting again in heaven, etc, that did absolutely nothing for me. I ended up having to seek my own catharsis by talking to friends who were willing to acknowledge the senselessness of it with me and wouldn’t offer empty platitudes about an imaginary person or about things happening “for a reason”.
That said, I don’t think my sister would have made it were it not for those beliefs. One of my friends even said then that she felt that things like young kids dying are why God was invented in the first place.
Sorry for the long post, and I hope you don’t mind me bringing up my own experience. It sounds like the service for my nephew was much better than the one for your grandfather, so I’m not saying that I can fully empathize, but to the extent that our experiences overlap, I do. I’m sorry that your grandfather passed away, and I’m sorry that a service filled with talk about an imaginary god and none about your grandfather was the best your surroundings were able to offer you. Thanks for sharing and I hope you can find your own catharsis the way I did.