Here is what I said at my mother’s funeral on June 11, 2016
As I stand here next to the flowers, the urn, and the picture of my mother, I am reminded that I stood in this exact same spot in 2007, nine year ago. That was at the funeral of my father. In some ways, it seems like an eternity ago; in other ways, it feels like it happened just yesterday. With my father’s death, I experienced an unusual reaction. I was bombarded with forgotten memories of my dad. It was as if the neurons in my brain were randomly firing, primped by my grief. They left me with a clear message of my father’s true value.
There was a score of these long-since forgotten memories, but let me share three of them. I remembered an incident where I threw up beside some mountain road, probably around the age of 4-5. I could not recall any details, but I recalled the feel of my dad’s hand, as he leaned me forward so I could throw up onto the dirt. I also remembered a car accident around the age of 9. When the green light came on, we started across the intersection […]