Writing Eulogies

I was asked to speak at my friend’s funeral. In my circle, I am known for writing. I enjoy writing. I am not sure I do it well enough to eulogize a friend. The good news is, my words and clumsiness will be forgotten. My friend will not be forgotten.

I am not fond of public speaking, but I can do it. I have done community theatre. Writing and speaking this seems hard. It’s hard because it’s not an act or a script and though it’s reasonable to emote, there are times and places one has to be strong. This is one of them. You can’t help lift or sustain others if everyone is lifting you.

I reminded Shari, his wife, that I tend to be ‘not funny,’ tangential, verbose, and inappropriately provocative. I am, after all, a flibbertigibbet. She said okay.

My friend’s name is John. His name is my name, too. See, I threw in a John joke.

Grieving Moments

One of the problems with writing this is that I want to write about John, but I keep finding myself in this narrative. Maybe a good eulogy doesn’t try to separate our self from the subject. John existed in relationship to me. He will have existed in relationship with everyone who is here. I will be in this room, with you, most of whom the only thing in common we share is a relationship with John. We will be in this room for a moment. I will speak, hopefully, but a moment.

We travel in constellations. Stars and patterns last for mere moments. It seems like I met John only a moment ago. It was the spring of…