Grieving 101: The "Other" Eulogy

Note:  This is the "other" eulogy.  Because my mum would haunt me for the rest of my days if I spoke like this on the alter of our beautiful church.

I like a ton of people.  I love a lot of people.  I admire only a few.

My little brother, John, was at the top of that very selective list.

"How so?", you might ask.  Well, he embodied characteristics that I, personally, have to work hard to achieve.

Like, forgiveness.

John didn't care what happened yesterday.  He didn't weigh himself down with grudges over the moments you tripped and fell into being a shitty friend, sibling or person.  

If he loved you, he always loved you.  That day you sucked as a human didn't change that in his eyes.

Then there's his loyalty.

This is a biggie.  I'm not sure I've ever met someone more loyal than my John.  

I think I used to test his loyalty at times, because, as his/their big sister I am always the one asking questions.  And not just any questions, I ask the right questions. Over the years I've become something of a Question Asking Expert.  Pointing my words to the core, discarding any gray area and simply making it hard to avoid giving me a direct answer.  In short, when it comes to my brothers, I don't waste time on the bullshit.  

Each of my brothers handles my technique a little bit differently.  John has always been the most unwavering.  If it came down to a question that might shine a light on someone else's story, he'd grit his teeth, let out a deep breath and say "Come on, Tara (long exhale).  I don't know anything, ok?".

That "ok" was always a question, not a statement.  Because of that, I never pushed him.  Partly because that usually meant I was pretty close to the truth of the matter and mostly because I always admired this code of loyalty in him and never wanted to be the one to break it.

One of my favorite qualities was his honesty.

He didn't cherry coat things, hide many things or lie.  He was a pretty straight shooter in a world where being a straight shooter isn't easy.  

It's especially not easy when your sister is a royal pain in the ass and you know you are going to get an ear full about whatever it is you've been up to.  But thanks to his ability to forgive, he just let me be me - while he continued to be him.

Which brings us to his ability to love, unconditionally.

This is where John's a purist. 

He didn't give a rat's ass what you did last year, let alone what happened two hours ago.  He loved you for being you, always.

Now don't get me wrong here.  John was a grumpy son of a b*tch at times.  Working with him wasn't a picnic and if you caught him in a bad mood, well good luck.  On top of that he was smart as a whip and had no patience for anyone who wasn't (which was pretty much everyone).

However, underneath all that, he loved purely.

If you were in his circle, so to speak, you were in forever.  Mistakes, bad days, bad years, foolish acts, moments of weakness, he loved you anyway.

That's how big his heart was.  It had space to love the best you and the worst you all at once.

Now there's the characteristic that makes my heart ache and my eyes fill with tears.  His generosity.

He was, hands down, the most generous person I have ever known in all my days combined.

Shirt off his back, no problem.  Last dollar in his pocket, never a question.  Need something fixed, he would do it before you asked.   

He would give his time, his laughter, his humor and his love to anyone he cared for.  

In fact, he was so generous that he even bargained his soul so that Mum and Dad could pass seamlessly through Heaven's gates.

I know this because he told me.  He said so one day when we were all consumed with the grief of yet another loss  He looked at me with tears in his eyes and more love in his heart than any person I know.

I believed him when he told me this.  But I also believe that any person this generous doesn't have to bargain their soul for the safe passing of their loved ones.  That generosity is celebrated and cared for tenderly, as it should be.

In the end, John will remain one of the people I admire most in my life because of everything mentioned above and every other thing I either can't find the words for or choose not to share.

He was a better person than I am on my best days because he did kind things purely. He didn't rationalize generosity.  It was his natural state where others, me included, ponder and think and debate and then choose it.

John, at his core, was a giver.  

It is because of this I will always beam with pride for getting the chance to be John's big sister.