“I just wonder what Norb was thinking as he’s watching that car drive past while Jerome’s line is whizzing out of his reel?” my husband says days later, chuckling as he recalls the story.
My husband had the honor of writing and delivering the eulogy at his late brother’s funeral a few weeks ago. He did a great job; he gathered stories from his brother’s wife and each of their children, his own brothers, and also drew from his relationship with his late brother.
He delivered a eulogy that took us on a journey through his brother’s life, and made us all laugh, and cry and applaud him at the end.
He told the story of his late brother Jerome coaching his son’s soccer league. How he refused to cut kids from the team even though he was told to by other coaches. He played the strength of numbers, having enough kids for two teams that allowed him to constantly sub out players and literally run the others teams out of energy, while his own team was still raring to go. That season, their team took first place in the league.
He talked about how his brother and his wife, after their first date, never spent a weekend apart until the day they got married, and how their love lasted them through 56 years of marriage. Lovely.
He told the story I started above of his brothers out fishing in a canoe on the river and his brother Jerome over casted the bank of the river and caught a car speeding by and watched as his entire reel of line zipped out and the “ping” at the end when the line broke… further conversation stated his brother may, or may not, have had a few drinks in him. Lol
Several months ago a very dear friend asked me to do a eulogy at her husband’s memorial service after he passed unexpectedly. I sat with her and her daughters as they told stories, some made the eulogy, like her husband chasing his daughter up the stairs for disrespecting her mother. Him being hosed down by the local fire department in his front yard for smarting off to the fire chief (a close friend of his) and too many more to have included them all in the shared stories of his life at his memorial, or here. His mark on the world was his strength, his humor and his tremendously compassionate and giving heart.
My point is this. We spend a lot of time cultivating and orchestrating the perfect family vacations. Exotic trips over seas, extravagant experiences, curating the perfect family photo in matching outfits, etc. etc. and we post them all with #makingmemories.
They’re beautiful pictures and I love seeing them shared on social media and here is the rub… those are not the stories that craft our memories.
At the end of someone’s life we tell the stories that define who that person IS for us. What did they stand for, what were the qualities of their personality, how did they show up with their gifts and sometimes even their weaknesses, what did they mean to those who had the honor and privilege of loving them? We tell the stories that illustrate those things. Those are the things we remember. Yes, we talk sometimes about the trip to wherever, but the stories that touch our hearts are the ones that just… happened… because this person was who they were.
I am not saying to not plan and take the trips, or the excursions, or the perfectly staged photos. I am simply saying don’t get too caught up in those things because in the end, those are not the moments we remember the most.
I think of a friend of mine who lost her Dad a few years ago. His memorial photos (and there were A LOT) were pictures of him with a grandkid on his knee, bareback in swim trunks out on the boat, mid swing on a golf course, full corn cob in his mouth with butter dripping down his chin. Yes, they had lots of professional family photos, but those are not the memories that will soothe our wounded hearts when they’re gone.
Simply remember; while you are curating the perfect family trip/experience/photo/whatever, those are lovely moments in time… but they most often will not be defining life moments.
Remember to really SEE your loves for who they are. So often how we are remembered is the story when no one is paying attention to the periphery, but we are fully present to a moment, or it’s the full journey of a story that makes it worth being a memory. Our memories are connected to what we hold dear in our hearts. What we value, and how someone impacted us.
Those are the things that # make a memory.
Forever the journey, Anne