Today I'm going to repost the eulogy I wrote for my baby girl, who died on July 31st. I am so grateful that I had a chance to know her, that she was a part of my life, however briefly. And I can't think of anything to say that I didn't write before.
___________
When someone we love commits suicide, I think people have a natural
tendency to get angry, to rail against the universe, to demand an
explanation where none exists. We blame the victim, the world,
ourselves.
But I can’t do that. I can’t do that because even though I will never be
able to wrap my mind around why Moe chose to end her life, I cannot
allow anger and despair to overshadow how very grateful I am that
she was my daughter; how her presence in my life enriched me and made
me a better person. So I choose to celebrate her life, however short,
and to remember her in the same way I saw her in life, with love and
admiration.
And there was a lot to love to admire.
My daughter was fierce. In all my life, I have never met another
human being who had more conviction for doing what she thought was right
and fair, consequences to herself be damned. She never hesitated to
take a stand on moral grounds, or to stick up for the underdog. I loved
this about her, and her courage inspired me to be more courageous.
My daughter had a stunning intellect. She read voraciously, all her
life, right from the beginning. We would often see her moving through
the house with her nose stuck in a book, to the point where we became a
little concerned that she’d fall down the stairs from not watching where
she was going. Books were her lifelong friends, and her love of reading
was a cornerstone of who she was. She consumed information about her
world with the curiosity of the elephant’s child, whether the topic was
Dr. Who or social commentary on feminism in the modern age. And nothing
made her happier than to share this passion with others.
My daughter had an amazing ability to care for and invest in other
people. She was passionate about social justice. In spite of facing
discrimination herself, she spent considerable effort in trying to see
the world through the eyes of those who had less privilege. She cared
about feminism, and the LGBT community, and those who couldn’t care for
themselves. My daughter loved meat. Steak, bacon, sushi – she loved it
all. But when she decided that eating animals was not an ethical act,
she did not hesitate to become a vegetarian, because it was the right
thing to do, even though it meant giving up something she thoroughly
enjoyed. It’s who she was, and her ethical consistency and ability to
sacrifice holds me to a higher standard, as well.
There was time when things weren’t easy between us. We both spent her
teen years being angry and hurt. But as she approached adulthood, we
turned a corner, and adopted the attitude that being right was not nearly as important as being family.
I cannot express how profoundly grateful I am to have had the
opportunity to rebuild my relationship with Moe on a foundation of
trust, respect and mutual support, and I know she felt the same way.
Getting
to know one another as unique human beings with our own priorities and
desires has been one of the most precious and sacred experiences of my
life. I’m so
thankful to have done this work, and to have done it with someone whom I
love and admire so deeply.
I will miss my baby girl every day of my life. But I will remember her
positively, in all her glory and uniqueness, in all her awesomeness. She
really did march to the beat of her own tuba, and I’m grateful, utterly
grateful, to have marched with her, however briefly.
I’d like to close with a quote from Winnie the Pooh: "How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."
4 comments:
<3 <3 <3
What Anne said.
Love and hugs and support always.
We sure do love you, Auntie Janiece. *hug*
Also sending the love, Janiece.
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