avatarDeborah Weir

Summary

The text is a personal eulogy reflecting on the author's father, one year after his passing, expressing gratitude for his life, mourning his loss, and acknowledging his continued influence.

Abstract

One year after her father's death, the author reflects on the passage of time, finding it both slow and swift, and admits to still struggling with words to honor him. The family has navigated the painful "firsts" of the year, with a sense of gratitude that the father was spared from the pandemic's ravages and was surrounded by family at the end. The author, who is neither religious nor spiritual, has grappled with grief without a traditional framework, finding solace in the daily reminders of her father in her own actions and her children's behaviors. The loss of Alex Trebek, a figure associated with her father through their shared love of Jeopardy, has been particularly poignant. The practical aspects of life without her father, such as moving house, have highlighted his absence, yet she is proud of the qualities she has inherited from him and remains grateful for their time together.

Opinions

  • The author feels a complex mix of emotions, including gratitude that her father did not suffer from the pandemic and that he was with family in his final moments.
  • Despite not being religious or spiritual, the author seeks ways to honor her father's memory and navigate her grief.
  • The author sees her father's influence in her life and her children's, indicating a sense of continuity and legacy.
  • The author expresses a deep connection to her father through shared interests, such as their enjoyment of Jeopardy, and feels the loss of public figures like Alex Trebek more acutely because of this connection.
  • The practical tasks of daily life without her father, like moving, are difficult, but they also serve as reminders of her father's presence and the qualities she has inherited from him.
  • The author acknowledges that no amount of time with her father would have been enough, but she is thankful for the time they had.

LIFE & DEATH

A Eulogy: One Year Later

For my father, a year after his passing

Photos Courtesy of Author

One year.

How did this year both crawl and fly by at the same time?

A whole year, and I’m no better at finding the words that eluded me at your funeral. I allowed my three siblings to speak for me, as choking out unintelligible words through tears was not the way I wanted to honour you.

This past year, we went through all the firsts, and we did as many of them together as we could, given the circumstances. The circumstances I’m so grateful you avoided.

Is that strange?

To give anything for more time with you here, but yet feel grateful that you were untouched by the hand of this pandemic, and that in your final moments, you were surrounded by family.

I’m not religious or spiritual. I don’t pray. I don’t assign meaning. We were very much alike in this way. But it left me without a map for how I was to navigate my grief.

I didn’t know how to honour your memory properly. I’m still not sure I do. But every day, I see things that remind me of you, and I see things in me that are you.

The way the kids can ask a simple question and I go into some long detailed explanation, or correcting their grammar, or even saying “are you asking me or telling me?” when the kids would speak with typical childish vocal inflections.

Jeopardy is a family institution in our house, and I take such pride when I obliterate the board the way you used to, or even when I just answer one really tough one.

I know that’s you.

So much so, that the loss of Alex Trebek this year was the first time a celebrity death has ever made me cry. It was like losing you all over.

Moving was probably one of the hardest things to do without you. That was just your thing.

You would have most definitely tried to lift and move things far too heavy, and Mom and I would have undoubtedly yelled at you for it.

But you also would have hung my pictures, fixed the broken garage light, assembled the furniture, and probably put something up without asking because you thought it made sense there, like the showerhead in my first house. I would have been annoyed, but I would have thought of you every time I saw it.

I see your hands and eyes in my daughter’s drawing skills, I hear your curious voice in my son’s questions.

I know how much you loved Jack and how happy it would have made you to see us moving forward with our lives together. But mostly, I am just so proud of all of the “you” that lives in me.

It will never have been enough time, but I’m grateful for the time we got.

I love you, Daddy.

More from Deborah

Death
Eulogy
Family
Love
Spirituality
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