Last words
You probably can't tell from the blogs, but I think I can write a decent paragraph. So I was more than glad to help a friend write a eulogy for his dad last night. Doing something like that can't be easy; there are tons of emotions running through your head--not to mention logistics like handling funeral arrangement.
I think it turned out really well. When people hear it tomorrow, they'll get a lot of insight into a 93-year-old guy who came to L.A. from China, waited table until he could afford property, and raised a bunch of kids who are all doing well. It's a good mix of anecdotes and humor that might even draw some tears.
The process was actually as rewarding as the results (which have yet to be seen, I know). My friend told me that he stayed up late the night before, and showed me some notes he came up with. I wound up starting from scratch, asking him questions about how he remembered his father in different situations at different times of life. It was really interesting, especially because they lived in the house behind my grandparents. They're family friends--so close we just call them cousins.
Going through such a process, organizing the thoughts and memories, and presenting them in a way that can be shared is something that usually happens in cases like this. It makes me want to go over all the family albums with mom and dad. It makes me want to organize the boxes of photos I have and print the files that are accumulating.
I have the magazine to detail a lot of my life. But I wonder what's falling through the cracks? What will be lost forever? Who will care?
I think it turned out really well. When people hear it tomorrow, they'll get a lot of insight into a 93-year-old guy who came to L.A. from China, waited table until he could afford property, and raised a bunch of kids who are all doing well. It's a good mix of anecdotes and humor that might even draw some tears.
The process was actually as rewarding as the results (which have yet to be seen, I know). My friend told me that he stayed up late the night before, and showed me some notes he came up with. I wound up starting from scratch, asking him questions about how he remembered his father in different situations at different times of life. It was really interesting, especially because they lived in the house behind my grandparents. They're family friends--so close we just call them cousins.
Going through such a process, organizing the thoughts and memories, and presenting them in a way that can be shared is something that usually happens in cases like this. It makes me want to go over all the family albums with mom and dad. It makes me want to organize the boxes of photos I have and print the files that are accumulating.
I have the magazine to detail a lot of my life. But I wonder what's falling through the cracks? What will be lost forever? Who will care?
posted by gr at
11:27 AM
What you had to say moved me. It brought to me memories of when my father died. You are right; it is almost impossible on such an occasion to be clear headed enough to collect your thoughts, let alone write something. Describing a person's life and providing a full rich sampling of their vitality in a few powerful words is not easy. It sounds like you did the job well.
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