You do what has to be done.

[Alfred says, glancing down at his own hands. Remembering how long the dirt from Bruce's grave stayed packed under his nails, a bitter, horrible reminder that seems to have permanently stained them. These deaths, they've stained both him and Oswald forever and he reaches out to place a hand on Oswald's shoulder. His touch is gentle but firm and he looks into the other man's face.]

You give the man you loved a proper farewell.
Because he deserves it.