eulogy
10/27/2007 08:40 p.m.
My mother passed on this last thursday morning; i'm sorry that i haven't gotten around to sharing this with all of you here, but i have a favour to ask of all of you. i've written a piece that i'm going to read at her memorial service; a 'eulogy', if you will. since i trust this place more than i trust myself when it comes to matters of the written word, i would like to hear your thoughts/critiques of it. i realize it may be hard to do with such a personal piece, but if you have any ideas or insights or even just kind words, or anything to contribute about this, i humbly request that you let me know. i appreciate it.





My mother is someone who deserves only the most eloquent of words, and the most unique of thoughts.
My father called me a little bit after noon last thursday; i already knew what he was going to say before he said it; god has a way of letting you know these things before anyone else has a chance tell you. As i was making my way from my apartment back to my house, i took stock of everything around me; there was not a cloud in the sky, the wind was calm, and the sun shone like a beacon from god. Birds were singing joyously, and most everyone i encountered on that trip was smiling. At first, i couldn't fathom how such a beautiful day could be the backdrop to such a terrible thing; but The more i thought about it, i came to the realization that this day was my mother's soul sent out into the world; as if she had willed the weather of her last moments to be the embodiment of every good thing she'd ever done. I can not honestly ever remember a more beautiful day.
My mother and father raised three intelligent, talented children imbued with a distinct sense of knowing right from wrong; and while we sometimes got mixed up, she never loved us any less; only showed us the path to right ourselves once again. My mother was very careful, though, to never impose upon us her dreams, but one: that we find our own place in the world and be ourselves as completely as possible. I believe to that end, she succeeded. She may not have had the greatest job or lived in the greatest of places, but she and my father both worked tirelessly to give us every opportunity that they could; and for our part, we did everything we could to honor every gift they'd ever given us. The beauty of this day was her one parting gift to all of us at the end of a beautiful life. I went for a walk before going to see her; soaking in everything i could, knowing that she would much rather have that than a bunch of people standing around feeling bad for her.
When i finally made it home to see my mother and talk to her one last time, the words escaped me, just as they do now; there was nothing that i could say or do to make her feel any better, so i simply told her that i loved her- and while that one way conversation only had three words in total, it's all i needed, and all she needed.
I do not aim to mourn my mother's death here today; i think she would rather us enjoy the lives we all still have ahead of us. instead, i aim to celebrate her life- because she was not someone sadly resigned to her fate, no. Even in those last days, she exuded a kind of hope and beauty that can only come from a genuine love of everything that she'd ever done- and she wanted to make sure that we were prepared for life without her; even in all that pain and suffering she'd endured toward the end, she was as selfless as ever. So it came as a sort of relief to hear that she'd gone. She need not worry or suffer anymore, and neither do we; she is at peace. God watches her now with more capable hands than anyone in this world possesses. My father, my grandmother, my brothers and myself tried to give her every great comfort in those waning days; and while she was better cared for than any person i have ever seen, god's hands are steady as a rock.
About 20 minutes before my father called me, I woke up with a start, interrupting one of the most pleasant dreams i can ever recall; i was standing in a gigantic field with my mother, the sun was shining, and it was a perfect day. The Song "The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkel floated through the air; the winds blew the grass all around us, but she just stood there, smiling so widely. though it was just a dream, it is an image that will stay with me forever. That particular song shades so many memories of my mother; when i was very young, we had a rust-bucket white plymouth station wagon; the only tape we had in the car was Simon and Garfunkel's Greatest Hits, one of my mother's favourite records. I find it no coincidence that this particular song was playing; the key lyric in all of it goes "I am leaving, i am leaving, but the fighter still remains"- and in light of all that she ever fought for in our lives, it seemed almost too fitting a requiem. her spirit continues on, even after she's left. i was thankful for those last few moments that i got to spend with her; even if they were only a dream. it may seem cliche to say that she was a beautiful person who was taken from us too soon- but truly, that's exactly what she was, and so much more. i will miss her with all my heart; but her spirit lives on in the lives of any person she's ever touched, and will continue to live on forever more.

I''d like to leave you with a poem, now. I had been working on it for a couple months (starting right about when we got the diagnosis in july)- and finished it on wednesday evening; i have the feeling that god was telling me right then and there. But i'd like to share it with you.

"Origami"

a child folds paper to pass the time
as the wind casts
the rain into the walls;
the percussive tap fills him
with a wild abandon;
as the front door opens,
his father enters and
the paper escapes;

she is a fragile bit of
graceful beauty-
a paper crane
caught inside a hurricane
and the eye of the storm
is surely her salvation;
broken wings and all, she'll make it
and the sun will be shining as she
soars up, up, up

over the clouds of the storm
it's a clear day, and she looks down
upon a sea of raindrops, laughing;
her wings healed, her soul cleansed
her body freed from constraint.
Her love is boundless as the storms
start to clear, and down below
the child stares up in to an endless sky,
and faintly, he sees a figure pass
in front of the sun.

he folds another crane.

may peace be with her and all of you as well.

I am currently Reflective
I am listening to simon and garfunkelthe boxer