Eulogies

Eulogies

   At this point in our lives (at least for many of us) we have listened to or actually spoken at many eulogies, often for those close to us.  The word comes from the Greek word for "praise," and surprisingly, a eulogy can even be given for a birthday or a retirement.  Wikipedia adds this about the word:  Eulogies are usually delivered by a family member or a close family friend in the case of a dead person.  For a living eulogy given in such cases as a retirement, a senior colleague could perhaps deliver it.  On occasions, eulogies are given to those who are severely ill or elderly in order to express words of love and gratitude before they pass away.  Eulogies should not be confused with elegies, which are poems written in tribute to the dead; nor with obituaries, which are published biographies recounting the lives of those who have recently died; nor with obsequies, which refer generally to the rituals surrounding funerals. Catholic priests are prohibited by the rubrics of the Mass from presenting a eulogy for the deceased in place of a homily during a funeral Mass.

   Who'd have thought it would be so confusing?  But for those who have spoken at a eulogy, it can be exactly that.  One would love to mimic the eulogies of Hollywood movies, the speeches so earnest and honest and heartfelt and moving...and impromptu.  And for some of us, that might be exactly how it turns out.  The reality for most, however, is that of a sudden pressure to say the right thing.  Everyone is watching, and for the most part, everyone is wanting you to say exactly what they are feeling.  The pressure for the speaker thus becomes to try and get everything in, or rather, to not leave anything out.  Sometimes this is accomplished with a chronological summary, tidbits of a childhood or accomplishments you knew little about (say, about your grandmother).  Sometimes, the eulogy is simply a series of reflections, good times and laughable times, the emphasis usually being on "good."

   But even for those in the audience, there sits an uncomfortable feeling as thoughts swirl in one's head.  Should you have done more, should you have visited more, should you have talked more?  One co-worker's memorial I attended had a few neighbors speak, along with her husband; but when all was said and done, he gave the microphone over to anyone else who wanted to say a few words, this in a crowd of perhaps a hundred.  No one came up.  He waited a minute, then asked again in a polite, non-threatening manner, after all there were no right or wrong words, only feelings.  Come on up, he said, feel free, anyone, anybody who wanted to say just a few quick words about his wife.  And again, no one came up.  Perhaps it was stage fright, perhaps no one had much to say, perhaps everyone felt uncomfortable.  Perhaps she was more alone than she thought.
 
   This can happen at work, and with friends, and with family.  My wife always says that as many people as we know, she can probably count on one hand the number of true friends that will answer your call, day or night, and answer without hesitation.  This was probably best highlighted in the television movie, Five, when Patricia Clarkson (as Mia in the film), dying of breast cancer, decides to host her own pre-funeral, inviting all of her friends and family and neighbors to an open-casket viewing and ceremony, complete with speeches from all (she is barely able to stand, clutching onto her stand of IV drips as she listens in the back);  needless to say, her grown children find this all more than a bit strange but, being as she has only a little time left to live, go along with her request.  But midway through all of the tears and praise, as a "close" neighbor tells of how good a person Mia was,  Clarkson stands and stops the entire ceremony.  "This isn't going to work," she says, and tells the neighbor to sit down, at which point she walks up to the microphone.  One can imagine what happens...with little or nothing left to lose, it becomes a time to let it all out, to tell off those who were phony friends, and to praise those who were there...always. 

   This is contrasted with the Japanese film, Departures, the slow, reverential pace of a family watching their loved one being "prepared" for cremation, a preparation filled with respect and silence.  Some cultures have wakes that are anything but silent, a time of celebration and joy, a time to remember the life of the person, not the death.  And some eulogies are simply held alone, in one's head.

   One of the most enjoyable, if I can use that term, eulogies I had the honor of attending was at that of my college roommate, someone I had known since grade school.  When a freak accident (putting on his Rollerblades, he stood and fell backwards, as if slipping on ice, banging his head and sending him into a vegetative state for 14 months) suddenly brought life as he knew it to an end, his sisters planned the speakers by the length of time they knew him, the longest going first, the most recent speaking at the end.  Some heard my friend and I speak of his early years, growing up through all the levels of school, then others spoke of him post-college, others knew him only from his tennis club, and still others knew him only from his later years at work.  We all got to listen and learn, saying goodbye to a finished puzzle of his life, all the pieces we lost touch with and never knew, now complete and providing closure.

   In an 2006 article from Esquire, author Tom Chiarella wrote an excellent piece of his own reflections on giving a eulogy:  I've heard people say they dread giving eulogies.  How, they ask, can you summarize a person's life in a series of moments?  I always shrug.  It is hard.  But I do have my rules. FIRST THING TO KNOW is this: Giving a eulogy is good for you.  Period.  It may hurt to write it.  And reading it?  For some, that's the worst part.  The world might spin a little, and everything familiar to you might fade for a few minutes.  But remember, remind yourself as you stand there, you are the lucky one.  And that's not because you aren't dead.  You were selected.  You get to stand, face the group, the family, the world, and add it up.  You're being asked to do something at the very moment when nothing can be done.  You get the last word in the attempt to define the outlines of a life.  I don't care what you say, bub: That is a gift. 

   Giving a eulogy might be one of the most difficult things to do, for you as the speaker are also going through your own swirl of emotions.  What to say, notes or no notes, why you?   But as author Chiarella says, consider it a gift.  Even better, imagine giving a eulogy now to those that you love...friends, family, your dog.  Think of what you would say and how you would say it...no regrets, just from your heart.  And maybe, just maybe, you can go back to the original meaning of the word, "praise,"  in order to express words of love and gratitude before they pass away.