In the South, casseroles are known as “funeral food.” After a funeral, people gather at the home of the bereaved and bring casseroles for a kind of potluck. The idea is that the family shouldn’t have to entertain the mourners and shouldn’t have to cook for basically the rest of the week. Some people even bring frozen casseroles to extend the usefulness of the food offerings. Tuna noodle casseroles are popular. Chicken rice casseroles. Green bean casseroles. Shepherd’s pies. Eggplant parm. Tater tot casseroles. Frito pies. Lasagna. Sweet potato casseroles. Ham and potato casseroles. Broccoli cauliflower casseroles. Moussaka. Even one that’s simply called “Funeral potatoes.” There are plenty of cakes and pies, too.
Food is an essential when there’s a new baby as well. It’s assumed that the new parent or parents won’t have time to cook substantial meals, so plenty of frozen casseroles are supplied. Visitors don’t arrive en masse and don’t expect to be entertained. They often bring useful items like diapers and wipes. They expect a few minutes of conversation, a look at the infant if they’re asleep, or a chance to hold them for a minute. What they mostly offer is help. Cleaning. Babysitting for older children. Running errands. Preparing bottles if needed. Emotional support is a big form of support as well. Helping the new parent with self-care. Comfort items. Listening. Offering encouragement.
Even an illness or operation generates plenty of contact. People visit in the hospital, bringing flowers, treats, plushies, prayer circles, and more. They stay as long as you want or leave when you’re feeling tired. They ask if there’s anything they can bring you, and then they do. They ask if your plants need watering. When you come home, there may again be casseroles, especially if it’s been a major operation like knee replacement. There are offers of picking up groceries or medication. They ask what you need and, nine times out of ten, they follow through. They call to check up on you or just to talk.
It’s all different if you have SMI, however. SMI is just not a “casserole illness.”
If you have a public meltdown, no visitors, no encouragement. No casseroles.
If you spend time on a psych ward, no visitors, no flowers. No casseroles.
If you aren’t able to go to an event or meet for coffee, no sympathy, no prayer circle. No casseroles.
If you’re not able to get out of bed all week, no housekeeping, no errands run. No casseroles.
And if you survive a suicide attempt, no understanding, no acknowledgment. No casseroles.
I get it. I do. People don’t know what to say, so they don’t. They don’t know what you need, so they don’t offer it. They don’t know how to cheer you up (and they can’t), so they stay away. They’re afraid of psych wards, so they don’t visit.
Casseroles can’t hurt and might help.
What it all comes down to is stigma and ignorance. There are no social conventions that apply to those with SMI. Except for the most fortunate among us, we’re on our own.
Janet Coburn
Bipolar Me 
Comments on: "Say It With Casseroles" (3)
I like making cassroles
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I’ve been very puzzled by the casserols, people meeting by the dozend in the mourner’s home and the mourner not crying, and if they do, they do it in silence. In a way they entertain. They have to be there. It’s different here in Spain. Here, Catholics funereal mass, receive the condolences and go home. They may be a wake with the deceased in an open casket and people talk (no food, although it’s a fantastic idea. Non-Cathoics may read a poem, but essetially it’s just a bit of a variation. No embalming etc. The deceased has to be in a freezer for 24 awful hours (by law).The last thing you want to do after when it’s all over is cooking and eating.
When my son died, we had talked about it when he refused taking chemo and it was a simple and private process. All his friends were there dressed in black. I gave them all a hug. Then I said that just family members could get in, we kissed him goodbye and then we sat there watching how he was consumed by the flames. Then home. I was shattered, the last thing I needed was loads of people bringing anything. I just wanted to go home and grieve on my own, crying my eyes out until the cows came home.
There are lots of different ways. It interest me a lot. There is always a culture clash I guess. Sorry, this is very chaotic, I’m writing in the dark without glasses.
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Some American cater the after-funeral spread, but brining in food is much more common. Everyone sits around and eats and shares memories of the departed. There’s always more than the mourners can eat, so the family keeps the casseroles and freezes them.
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