Now, Writing Chloe's Eulogy Begins

How do I build a stairway to and from heaven with words alone?

Some great friends and I run a group coaching program for business dads who are working hard to be better husbands, fathers and business owners. We often get the guys write their eulogies. We ask them to write it in the voice of their wives, kids and those who care most about them.

That might sound a little morbid but it can a transformative experience.

It causes them to place themselves in the mind and soul of the people they love most. It’s less about the words they hope their loved ones say and more about taking time to think deeply about the impact they want to have. The words will naturally flow from how they’ll have been impacted.

Thinking about the future you want to create has this way of clarifying the present. A few things become obvious. The first is what you’re doing that you need to keep doing or do more of to make those future images a reality. The second tends to be the most impactful. It’s realizing what you’re doing (or not doing) that needs to change.

Positive images of the future inspire positive action in the present

The Worst Kind of Do-Over

I don’t have many regrets in my life. I tend to try to learn from my experiences as best I can. Sometimes it takes me a long damn time to learn the lessons, but I usually do.

But I do have a few regrets. I suppose most of us do.

I couldn’t read Cindy’s eulogy at her funeral. I remember sitting down at the funeral home with a pen and paper and scratching something out. I didn’t give it the thought it deserved. Finishing it and getting the fuck out of the funeral home were the most important thing to me in the moment.

I told myself there was no way I could read it and when the came, I didn’t. I handed it to the pastor and sat there as a woman I didn’t know read a eulogy about a woman she didn’t know.

I felt weak and helpless with my daughter on my lap. I knew I didn’t give Cindy’s eulogy the love and attention it deserved. When the time came, I sat on the sidelines.

I think one of the reasons I chose to hand off the reading of Cindy’s eulogy is I didn’t feel proud of what I wrote. It was a collection of hastily-written words that I knew didn’t honour the length and depth of the experience we shared.

I got completely shit-faced the night before her funeral. When I could have been thinking of how to remember her I was too busy trying to forget her.

While I do regret it, I’m not upset with myself about it. I did the best I could in the moment, even though my best kind of sucked.

Now I have another moment. It’s one I never imagined having and yet, here we are. This time I will do better. I’ll do it in a way that Chloe, my family and the world deserves.

Something So Important…

I was driving with Tanja yesterday and thinking about what Chloe’s eulogy could be. It occurred to me that before I write her eulogy I should write about writing her eulogy.

It’ll help me get clear on a few things:

• how I want to show up next Saturday and how I’ll summon the courage to do it

• how I want to honour her

• how I want to impact the people sharing this experience with us

Writing this has already clarified one way I’ll give myself the strength to stand up there and share Chloe’s eulogy with the world.

It’s to write a eulogy so personal, so carefully considered and so full of love that only I can deliver it. I want it to be so special that I can’t even consider entrusting it to another human being.

Every word will be considered with the utmost care. Each story will be chosen so that it illuminates the best in who Chloe is. The arc will weave the past, present and future together in a way that inspires people to bring the best of Chloe into the world.

I have a sacred duty as Chloe’s dad to create and share something that reflects how much I miss her, how much I love her and how I promise to carry her memory forward. I want her to know. I want the people who love her to know. And I want the world to know.

Focusing on the Journey

The process of writing Chloe’s eulogy is as important to me as the eulogy itself. It’s a gift in that I get to spend the next six days intentionally thinking her memory and legacy.

I’ll use this time to scroll through texts, look at pictures and connect to memories. I’ll laugh, cry and stare off into space. I’ll remember things I’d forgotten and think differently about things I remember. Even though she seems impossibly far away, I’ll feel so very close to her.

Through it all I’ll grieve. I’ll allow myself to feel the entirety of this experience.

I’ll love her. I’ll love her by doing the most loving thing I can do for her right now. That’s to help myself and others remember why Chloe is loved and missed by so many.

I’ll walk into the memorial next Saturday as a dad who has a different and even deeper understanding of what the nineteen years I shared with Chloe mean to me. My heart will be broken and full of love at the same time. Most of all, I’ll be grateful. I’ll be grateful the time we shared, grateful for the memories we have and grateful to the people who love her.

Embracing the Cringe

I’m sure I’ll picture Chloe looking over my shoulder as I write and pointing out anything I’m writing that’s cringey. She loved to point out how lame the things I say and do are and she was often right. She also loved to point how how low my ears sit on my head. That’s a topic for another day.

You know what Chloe? I’m going to include some shit you’ll find cringey and that’s just how it is buddy. I promise I’ll do my best to keep it to a minimum.

As she’s listening I want her to be reminded just how much I love her. I want her to remember that even when her life was really hard, she could always count on me loving her. I want her to to remember that I always wanted the best for her.

On my birthday last year, Chloe gave me a card and told me that I was one of her best friends. It’s one of the most meaningful things anyone has ever said to me. I want Chloe to remember that I’m still and will always be one of her best friends.

Finally, when I’m done, I want Chloe to say, “Thanks Dad. I love you and I know how much you love me.”

Building a Stairway

Tanja put on my favourite cover of Stairway to Heaven in the car yesterday. I was struck by the metaphor of a eulogy being the building blocks of a stairway to and from heaven.

Maybe this eulogy will help build a stairway that will make it a little easier for Chloe to come and visit and give her a way to get back home to be with Cindy after she does.

That’s my task for this week and I will pour my heart and soul into it. I promise.