Who’s up to read the 7 page eulogy I gave at my husband’s funeral? Anyone?

I really had a focus on HIM not US when I was writing this, as I didn’t want even a smidge of his eulogy to be seen as self aggrandizing… as I’d seen someone else do at a different funeral before. But I did get to speak to our love story and relationship on the boat when we were all going around and sharing memories before we scattered his ashes. Just to like- let you know my intention with this.

So.

Let me tell you about my favorite person.

He was not just mine but just about everyone’s favorite person, and I think that is because there was no one else on the planet like him. He literally walked to the beat of a different drum. And that’s because he was the drummer. (And the guitar player.) And I mean that both literally in that he created all that amazing music, in a genre he made himself too… but also figuratively. He made his own way, and he didn’t follow anyone else’s rules. And that doesn’t mean he had no rules… just that he knew, intrinsically what his own rules were. He didn’t lie. He didn’t cheat. He showed up and was present and didn’t dial it in. He knew, for himself and not by being told, how to be a good husband, father, friend, and person in the world. He was a good man. He also took noooo disrespect or passive aggression. He was pissed off by hypocrisy and people being mean to kids and animals. He knew the world at large was meant to be lived in and should be respected- as any of his friends who ever tried to litter in front of him knew.

He also made things fun. He played… all the time, out here in the world. But not just like, disc golf or basketball or throwing a football or baseball back and forth. He made his own games. You know a perfect example of this if you went camping with him and a little game called “pass the coal.” And it was… exactly what it sounds like: hot potato with a coal out of the fire. And I know you who never played it are going to doubt this- but as any of us who have played it… that if 10 of 10 fun, amiright?

But that was our life. He made everything a game or fun… but not ever in an exhausting way. Like- we’d turn Antiques Roadshow into a mystery science theater 3000 skit. He made a game out of guessing the final jeopardy answer at just the category clue. His games he invented himself and he never stopped doing it. Time with him was fun like that. And it’s a lesson we’ve tried to pass onto our kids. I told all of them- and Mary probably remembers best because I still say this to her- what do we call playing in the mud? IMPORTANT. It’s important to play. And we learned that from him.

Another thing that really stands out is how good he was, at everything he ever tried. Can anyone remember him failing at anything? Like, he went golfing with folks who had been playing for 20 years, and he hadn’t gone and played for about the same amount of time… and he WON. The best dancer. Could pick up any instrument or sit down at a piano… and it was always good! Fishing. Tying knots. Starting a fire. Any sport. He went back to college- double bachelors with honors and a note on one of his essays that it was the best essay that professor had read in 30 years. First year of teaching- nominated for a teacher hero award. He was the BEST gift giver. I never “won” a gift exchange, not even a single time with that man. Almost infuriating, honestly. And that “game” I mentioned earlier, where he’d guess the final jeopardy answer on just the category clue? 19 times. He got it right NINETEEN times. You know how many times I got it right? THREE. He was a talent.

I remember when I was pregnant with Lily and I was reading parenting book after parenting book, and I got mad at him for not reading any of the ones I had gotten for him and he told me: “I don’t need to read how to be a good dad, I know I’m going to be a good dad.” And he was. And you know he was SO excited to be a dad, and to be a dad to these three girls. He had nothing but contempt for anyone who would say things like: Maybe you’ll get a boy next time, or anything like that. When asked when we were pregnant what he wanted or was hoping for he replied, each and every time: “A human.” And that’s all he ever wanted- 3 little humans, and he was thrilled with the ones he got.

 And so back to my point-  He knew he would be good at anything he wanted to do. And so, if there was ever a time he WASN’T good at something… rest assured it’s just because he didn’t care. Not because he tried and failed.

And lastly… he had confidence without ego. Sometimes maybe a smidge of ego, okay, but not like, a LOT of ego. He was by nature a very confident person- because he knew his value, his worth and his abilities. And not ALWAYS, he was human, and there were times that cracked, but it wasn’t often. And he’d always get it back as confidence as his base level. I remember one time we were watching basketball and he said how Steve Nash played basketball like him. And I said: you know… most people would phrase that a bit differently. Most people would say “I used to play a bit like Steve Nash.” And he said: “No. Steve Nash plays like me.” And… yup. That was him. He was confident. 

And he didn’t let anyone push him around either. He had the confidence to stand up for himself. I remember the first time I introduced him to my grandfather. I said “Grandpa, this is Lucas.” And my grandfather said: “Move my truck, will you?” and thrust his keys at Lucas. Lucas caught my eye, went and moved the truck and came back in without saying a word. When he came back my grandfather stuck out his hand and Lucas shook it and my grandpa said gruffly: ”No, give me my keys.” To which Lucas said: “Here are your keys you mean old bastard!” Now, when I say that is ALL my grandfather had been waiting for out of any spouse, EVER- he loved a give and take like that- all he wanted was to be called out. They became FAST friends- my grandfather would always make room right next to him and want to hang out with Lucas whenever they were together. When my grandfather was on hospice care one of the few folks outside of immediate family he wanted with him or would let care for him was Lucas. Hell, I think he put up with me because that was the way to get Lucas around.

Lucas would tell it like it was, he’d be himself, with everyone he met, and in any situation he was in. And he had the confidence to pull off saying something no one else on the planet could do. So, and I hate to admit there were multiple instances of this, but still they were not common by any means. But on the rare occasion I was being a bit of a B… he would tell me. “Hey. You’re being a bit of a B right now.” And I would go: “Oh am I, okay.” And turn that crap around. You want to talk about the confidence it took, knowing he could land that fighter jet of a message on that aircraft carrier?! Like… do not try that at home folks, but he could do it, and he knew he could. So, he did.

That’s a weird story to end on I guess.

But as we look forward, and especially to our girls, I say that we now have to actively take the lessons he was showing us by example and put them in practice for ourselves. We have to continue to lean into inventive play. Find something fun to do in every situation. Make your days fun, don’t save it up for weekends or vacations.

Be confident. We may not have all of his intrinsic abilities, but we have to try new things, and not ever let fear hold us back from doing something we want to do. Believe in yourself and you can do the thing, whatever it is.

And say the thing. Say the good things- and tell the people you love that you love them. Tell them how amazing they are- he was really good at that. And say the thing you want to say and call someone out too. Don’t be cruel. Don’t try to hurt people. But don’t take anyone’s crap either.

And finally, there is something I need to share here as well.

The day he passed was obviously the darkest of my entire life. I was scared to go to sleep that night, not because I was afraid of nightmares, but because I was afraid of waking up. I woke up, EVERY DAY, happy – and so I was worried about the fall from Happy to the crushing reality… it was too much to consider. But eventually my body just shut it down that night and I went to sleep with our girls held tight.

And I woke up and sat up- bolt upright, at 4:37am. And I got up, and I went out onto my aunt and uncles’ upstairs deck. And I sat down with the moon and the stars. And I just sent up to him, somewhere- that I never ever wanted to be mad at him, as they tell you is a stage of grief, because that seemed so unfair. I know he didn’t want to leave us here without him. So, I didn’t want to be mad at him for it. So, I just sent out to him that I loved him. And I forgive him for leaving me here and for every other trifling little thing. And I got back instantly that if I could do that then it meant he could and did forgive me the same. And if he could forgive me for you know, being a B occasionally, or maybe taking him for granted once, or for not saving him from whatever this was that took him from us… if he could forgive me that then I could forgive myself the same and it quieted the “what if” scenarios that had tortured me all day. And next was that if I could forgive myself then obviously it meant he could forgive himself and there was nothing but peace between us. Each of those came in a flash, one after the other. And they undid the steel bands around my chest. And I felt peace.

I sat with that, up there on the 3^rd floor deck. And it rained briefly and then stopped. And it was again just me, in the dark under the moon and stars.

And then a cardinal landed on the railing right in front of me. And I looked at it for a second. And it started singing. Looking right at me. And I laughed and cried and said outload, “Okay baby, but you know how I feel about the cardinals…”

Because I know everyone says that cardinals are messages from our lost loved ones… but they’re also the 16^th most popular bird in Texas, so like… it can’t be all cardinals.

And the cardinal flew off. And a mockingbird flew up and landed a foot away from where the cardinal had been, less than 10 seconds before.

And I cried harder, and laughed again and said “Okay. But those are pretty common too…” And he knew and I knew I was only joking. I knew it, all of it, had been messages from him. And I’ve been hanging onto it- as it is proof he didn’t just blink out of existence on us. And I can hang onto that and get comfort from it. And I hope you can too. And the day after… I woke up at 4:37 again and went outside and sat with him and had peace until dawn.. And the day after that woke up at 4:37 and said “My baby I love you so much, but I am sooo tired.” And I went back to sleep. And when I woke up at 7:30 I went: “Wait. Did I just hit snooze on my ghost husband?” And I don’t wake up every night at 4:37 now… but when I do I jump right up. I get to smile about it, and know he’s still around for us.

And so. Now I speak directly to our girls here. I know all of us have been asked how we’re doing. And what do we say? But I have started saying this and I want you to as well. When asked how we’re doing the answer, the only one, is “The horror persists, but so do we.” Because that is the ONLY choice, the only path for us. We would do your amazing dad a disservice if we did anything otherwise. He was the strongest, funniest, smartest, best person in the world… and now it’s up to us to carry that forward, and not let his impact diminish in the world now that he isn’t in it, but to multiply it. And I ask all of you to do the same, and that is how we can honor Lucas the way he deserves to be honored.

Thank you