This piece doesn’t contain any advice.
It’s a purely personal anecdote I shared with the community in March of 2023.
It took me completely by surprise when it became one of the most liked emails I’d sent to date, and the outpouring of support I received in the following days still makes my chest constrict.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure I should share it here since AuthorHQ is an education hub and not my personal blog (I don’t have one), but I was encouraged to do so because it contains some worthwhile lessons on mindset and life.
If you read this and it resonates with you, then it was worth sharing.
And if you don’t enjoy it, no hard feelings. Rest assured, the other articles are pure advice.
Anyway, enter past Creag…
Today, I want to get a little personal with you…
My grandmother passed away last week.
We lived in the same house for the first 18 years of my life, and a 10-minute drive away ever since. We were close.
And while we’ve known it was coming for the past year, and she went relatively peacefully after 90 years of life, it’s still an emotional time.
It’s also a time to spend with family and celebrate her life.
And wow, does she have a large family!
Grandma was one of five siblings. She had four daughters, each with kids, and now grandchildren. I have more cousins than I can count.
Which is normally a good thing…
But they make a large crowd when gathered in one room…
And I’ve never addressed them all together before…
So it was with butterflies in my belly that I stepped up to give my eulogy.
My reputation as a storytelling coach and speaker got out, so someone had the notion I would be the best person to go last and close out the celebration.
I’ve never written a eulogy before, and felt no small pressure to live up to expectations.
It’s been a long time since I spent so many hours on so few words.
I finished with something meaningful to me, with enough humor mixed in to lighten the mood but remain tasteful.
I realized eulogies are just stories. What makes them scary is how they’re about a real person, and told exclusively to people who loved that person.
And when the eyes of the room are on you it’s easy to question if your jokes are appropriate…
If the meaning you found will resonate…
If you can do your loved one justice.
It’s funny how imposter syndrome can strike even in a room full of family.
But like fiction, all you can do is craft the story as best you can according to what you know.
To what you feel.
Stay true to the story you want to tell and the audience will know.
I eulogized, and no one booed (can you imagine?).
Family, friends, and total strangers made a point of finding me later to say thank you for the story I told.
I was reminded how stories unite us. They provide a shared experience. And that’s beautiful, especially as we grieve a loved one.
I live in a world of fictional stories. I read nearly one million words of make-believe each month. But I enjoyed the reminder that our lives are filled with story-worthy moments, and to cherish the time we get with those we love.
That’s it! Have an incredible week, and if you’re lucky enough to be able to hug a loved one—do it.
