July 25, 2020
Elliot did not understand. I was counting on him to eulogize me at my funeral. Just after he went away to school, I journaled about my own death and what my eulogy would be.
I imagined so many things. Elliot would be standing at the front of the church telling people about things that he did not understand as a boy, but now that he was a father, he could see. Over the next few decades in the years before my own death, we would have beers and talk for hours. I would buy him dinner when he took his first real job. We would have debates over politics. I imagined myself holding his son and remembering Elliot as a baby.
On the day of my funeral, Elliot would wrap his arm around Alex and tell him, “Dad is still with us.” Or maybe not say anything at all. I cannot picture anyone else having the strength, the grace, and the love to give my eulogy, to comfort my other children. Now who will give that speech? I always thought Elliot would and that all five of the kids would be there.
