Dating : Two Eulogies…

“Dancing is not just getting up painlessly, like a leaf blown on the wind; dancing is when you tear your heart out and rise out of your body to hang suspended between the worlds.” — Rumi

I feel that memorial services, funerals, eulogies…these are all for the healing of the one’s left behind. They are for the living and capturing that essence isn’t always peaches and cream.

So how do I do my mom justice while still remaining authentic?

Mom:

I will remember you as someone who struggled with who they really were and lived parts of her life behind an impenetrable wall.

I will remember you as someone who, at times, did not hesitate to voice her disappointment, even to her own children, about becoming a parent.

I will remember you and that time I was 16 when my car broke down after midnight and I called you for help and your response was “what do you expect me to do from here?”

I will remember you and that time I reached out when I was left alone with a baby and I didn’t know where else to go and you said, “sorry you can’t stay here.”

I will remember you and that time I left my son at your house so I could work and when I picked him up you said, “you make money, hire a sitter and don’t bring him here anymore.”

And then…

I will remember you as someone who was known for being brilliant, and you certainly lived up to that standard. Everyone who talks to me about you almost always starts off with “your mom was the smartest…”

I will remember you as someone who, for a long time, used alcohol and blow as crutches and, eventually, achieved sobriety.

I will remember you as someone who was funny and could make light out of almost any situation. You had an incredible ability to fund the humor in everything. You kept it all light and nothing was ever a big deal. Comedy was your superpower.

I will remember you as someone who valued things like education and knowledge over tangibles like money and things. Your measure of success was how much wisdom someone offered and not what socio-economic status they achieved.

I will remember you as someone who was fearless. You had plenty to be afraid of and yet you laughed in the face of most of it.

I am still not sure if I resent you for the words I have etched on my mind or thank you for showing me the value of honesty. You never sugarcoated anything and direct was your signature style. I know you meant it when you told me you considered an abortion, but I also know you meant it when you held my face the day I graduated high school and said “I am proud of you.”

Most of all…

I believe you, much like me, tried your best.

Despite everything, I love you.

“This place is a dream. Only a sleeper considers it real. Then death comes like dawn, and you wake up laughing at what you thought was your grief.’ — Rumi