EulogyNOW- Say it NOW

We are ushered to a family waiting area, a somber gathering in truth. We use our indoor voices. Waiting to be given the green light to walk to the chapel. Everyone is draped in black, a sign of mourning and respect, so I understand. My sister does not typically wear black. Her vibe is bold, colorful, and happy. Today, she wears black; she grieves. The pastor says something that irks me. I bite my tongue. What I really want to say is, who the fuck are you? You didn’t even know him. Can you imagine picking a fight with a man of God? Geez, get your shit together, Mic. 

The church fills up quickly. A procession of family and friends shares personal stories, a declaration of love and gratitude. Admiration is evident for a life gone too soon. The words come effortlessly, but the delivery does not, and tears interrupt the flow. The weight of the loss is heavy. 

It was phrased as a celebration of life. A service to pay tribute. But this is a cloud of grey, misting sadness- – this does not reflect his life- we should be at the lake doing somersaults- that’s what he would want, not this. But here we are. Why do we wait until we are brought to our knees to have the courage to say things, to express what resides in our hearts? I want to ask all that stand with shaky voices and trembling hands, speaking truth to the magnitude of the loss, ‘Hey… did you ever say this to him in person, or is this the first time he hears your praise?’ I don’t; again, I bite my tongue. Instead, I turn on myself. Did I say enough? Did he know he mattered to me, that he was important? Could I have said more, done more, been more …perhaps?

My mom and I hide behind the giant bouquets. They are gorgeous; we like our hiding spot; the bed of roses offers comfort from the sadness and agonizing small talk. She takes my hand and looks me square in the eyes; I brace myself. I need to be strong; her heart is broken. She diverts, ‘Please don’t send me flowers when I am dead. If you want to send me flowers, send them now…send them when I am alive and enjoy them. So I can smile and think of you.’

Yet another Yoda moment delivered by my ever-wise Nana. I absolutely should be sending flowers to the people who matter to me with notes of gratitude. Thank you for inspiring me, thank you for your love, thank you for showing me kindness, thank you for forgiving me, thank you for believing in me, and thank you for impacting my life.

Why do we hold back on love and appreciation until too late? 

The Favorite

I am on the phone with my sis; what are you getting, Mom? I don’t know, what are you getting her? It’s a conversation we have every holiday. My mom has everything and has no interest in material goods. What she desires most is time with her favorite people. This is a challenge; life often gets in the way. Place her in a room with any of her kids or grandbabies, and she is over the moon. I often tease her, c’mon, mom, break the news to the others, admit it, I’m your favorite. We are all bidding to be her favorite; she is terrific at pacifying us and has confessed that her favorite child is whoever happens to be in the room with her …diplomatic, she is.

You know who doesn’t have a favorite, my fierce mother n’ law, my hubby is her one and only. There is no competition; he is the favorite every day. He is the ‘one’ – the beginning and the end. It must be gratifying and exhausting being an only child. On the one hand, you get all the doting, the love, the opportunities… and energy directed at one. On the other hand, it must be consuming to be the one to have to check all the boxes. Not shocking, my hubby excels as an only child.

Unlike my siblings and I, we would have failed miserably as only children – we were perfectly imperfect and were proper pains in the ass. My mom still has dark circles from sleepless nights that turned into sleepless years. First, she had to endure the infant and toddler stage…did I mention six, the number she had; she ran a 24-7 daycare. …let me be clear as day…my mom had a 7-year-old, a 6-year-old, a 5-year-old, a 4-year-old, a 3-year-old, and a newborn. Let that sink in. After lasting the early years, we hit her hard as teenagers with missed curfews and piles of stupidity. Not Nina (hubby’s mama). She only had one golden boy to adore. According to Nina, my husband was the perfect child; he slept through the night, never spoke out of turn, smart, kind, strong, athletic…you get it, he was flawless. See the difference, one child-perfection: multiple children-pain in the ass.  

Nina

How was the visit, I ask? She is anxious, nervous, unsettled. She walks obsessively around the building; she’s hell-bent on finding an exit door. She has no idea what is happening, yet a tiny part of her is fully aware that the hamster wheel she is on is complete shit. She eventually sat and stared into space. Are you going back tomorrow? Yes. Heavy sigh, am I a glutton for punishment? No, babe, you are not; she’s your first love. He professes his wish; I keep hoping she will have a moment of clarity, just a few minutes to be a duo again- just the two of us- I want to hug her and tell her -how much I love her. I want her to feel my love.  

I want that for you too, babe, and if you get that moment, promise me, you’ll read her my message… I promise, he says; we have rehearsed this; I make him read the message, having him say it out loud makes me feel better; it eases my guilt for not saying it to her when I had the chance.

Nina, thank you for raising such a cool human being. The seeds you planted in him have bloomed, and they are glorious; he’s an unbelievable father and even better husband. I am sorry, I never told you how grateful I am. Thank you for loving him fiercely; he now loves us with the same fire. Oh, by the way, he’s definitely not perfect, but that’s not important, just sayin’, nonetheless a keeper. I love you.

We both dream of this moment, one more chance with her. I remind him of their incredible relationship. I encourage him to hang on to the memories; I want them to be enough, to wrap him up like a warm blanket.  

He has no regrets; he said everything; they were an awesome duo. They were the best to each other. What gnaws at him is that joy and happiness have been painstakingly drained from her. She was a spunky, feisty, quick-witted, and loving person. Now, she is a shell, hollow, empty. He wants to fight for her, but the battle is over; Alzheimer’s prevailed. All that is left to do is to accept. I catch myself talking about her in the past tense…why do I do that? She is still here, but she is not.

Nana

Lightbulb moment-I call my sis back…

M: I got it; I have an idea for a gift...a eulogyNOW
F: A what?
M: You know, like a eulogy
F: For dead people, at a funeral?
M: Exactly! Well, no, sort of...for people who are still alive...eulogyNOW...Why should we wait for her funeral (please God, not for many, many more years- oh, and sorry, for being rude to the pastor) to tell her how we truly feel? I say we throw her a eulogyNOW celebration. She needs to know exactly how amazing she is; she needs to know she is a national treasure. 
F: Sold, I am in.

I ask my siblings to record a message on video. I compile personal messages and favorite memories, insert photos, play favorite songs in the background, and create a gratitude video. Brilliant! Knocking one out of the park for Nana is hard, but this makes the top 10 list. Tears of pure joy. Mission accomplished; she feels the love. Bonus: I am her favorite child, if only for the ten minutes the video runs.

Don’t Wait

Please don’t wait until it’s too late, and don’t have any regrets—not with this. Life is hard enough, and the good stuff should be easy and part of our daily dosage. 

Consider this: when tomorrow comes, and a loved one is no longer here, will you be able to utter, “I know they knew exactly how I felt… I was not shy about expressing my gratitude and appreciation.” I hope so.

Tomorrow is not guaranteed; never miss an opportunity to brand your circle, sear them with so much love that they never question the impact they have had in your life. Make the brand deep and permanent.

A Note From Mic,

EulogyNOW-this is how I roll these days. I am actively celebrating life and branding my people.  ToGETHERJOY is part of this branding-shouting out to incredible women who add a spicy punch to this so-called life, the zip sauce to our everyday. This blog is all about illuminating… ‘Hey, you are awesome -keep that shit up, girlfriend.’

I also do BIG birthday celebrations. Balloons, confetti, and doors get decorated, one surprise after another. When given a solid reason to celebrate, by all means, celebrate, bust out the champagne.

If you can’t say it, write it… I write my boys letters. They tuck them away, easy access to my words – for the days they need a nudge. I planted this seed early on; they, too, write letters. I must raise boys who are not afraid to speak with affection. To be comfortable using words of praise and admiration.

Start tagging people; we do it for social media; I say we do it in person #Iloveyou #youtaughtmesomuch #thankyou #iadmireyou #badass #warrior #myhero #ihonoryou #youinspiremetobebetter

I will not wait for a funeral or illness to celebrate a person I adore and appreciate. I never want to say- If only- ever again…I will pay tribute every chance I get, I hope you do too. 

Don’t wait; today is the day, right now, this moment. Go on, get to it, send the flowers, throw a eulogyNOW celebration, and you will make someone very happy.

Xo-Mic