My words for BB's funeral
Oct. 21st, 2008 07:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stephbgWords for the funeral of David Michael Graham (26/12/1958-14/10/2008), as spoken by his sister Stephanie (18 Oct 2008)
I don't know what a eulogy is supposed to look like. I didn't really care. I just had a few things to say, difficult--oh how difficult!--though it was.
--
My brother Dave and I shared a problem: we both had trouble hearing voices in noisy environments. Unfortunately, every family gathering was noisy, so we usually couldn't have long conversations.
We didn't actually spend much time together alone until he became ill, when we discovered that we could understand each other just fine if there was no other competition.
Over many many hours of quiet conversation and physical therapy I rediscovered my brother. My intelligent, funny, annoying, wonderful, big brother.
He understood the seriousness of his situation, but never let it dominate him. He could be deeply philosophical and earnest, but his sense of humour remained intact.
In one of his early hospital stays he said "I'm not in here because I've got acne". "No," I said, "you're here because you're ugly." He never denied it.
He was quite proud of the radiation bald patch on the back of his head; it was like a bucks night souvenir from a drunken mate with a hedge trimmer.
We laughed together a lot, right to the end.
Dave looked forward to an adventure in the infinite. I was so very proud of him for that.
The clouds in his heaven are not the birthplace of rain; they are the birthplace of stars.
Safe journey, Davey.
I don't know what a eulogy is supposed to look like. I didn't really care. I just had a few things to say, difficult--oh how difficult!--though it was.
--
My brother Dave and I shared a problem: we both had trouble hearing voices in noisy environments. Unfortunately, every family gathering was noisy, so we usually couldn't have long conversations.
We didn't actually spend much time together alone until he became ill, when we discovered that we could understand each other just fine if there was no other competition.
Over many many hours of quiet conversation and physical therapy I rediscovered my brother. My intelligent, funny, annoying, wonderful, big brother.
He understood the seriousness of his situation, but never let it dominate him. He could be deeply philosophical and earnest, but his sense of humour remained intact.
In one of his early hospital stays he said "I'm not in here because I've got acne". "No," I said, "you're here because you're ugly." He never denied it.
He was quite proud of the radiation bald patch on the back of his head; it was like a bucks night souvenir from a drunken mate with a hedge trimmer.
We laughed together a lot, right to the end.
Dave looked forward to an adventure in the infinite. I was so very proud of him for that.
The clouds in his heaven are not the birthplace of rain; they are the birthplace of stars.
Safe journey, Davey.
