My cousin’s husband died a few days ago of heart failure, at 70, and his two children gave the eulogies at the funeral service. Both his son, a film editor, and his daughter, an assistant principal, recounted anecdotes that typified their dad’s take-charge, no-nonsense attitude. They laughed, they cried and they embraced each other. Their dad came alive through their passionate, personal, honest and articulate eulogies. They conveyed intense love, respect and, most important, understanding.
Watching and listening to these two adult children as they stood before their dad’s flag-draped coffin (he served in Viet Nam in the sixties), I could almost visualize my own two children standing above my coffin (actually urn, since I’d prefer cremation.) Would they reveal that they really “got” me and appreciated my essence? Would they say I made an impact on their lives that they will never forget? Would they know how much I loved and respected them, even if I didn’t always show it the way they would have preferred?
I hope so.
P.S. When FOF Jamie Lee Curtis delivered the eulogy at her father Tony’s funeral, she described him as, “a little mashugana” — Yiddish for crazy — but always full of life.”All of us got something from him. I, of course, got his desperate need for attention,” she joked.