EULOGIZE: say or write good things about someone who has died
I remember the doorbell ringing long after dark. I remember standing at the top of the stairs as you pitched a late night trip to the theater. I remember thinking you’d wasted gas on a fool’s errand. I remember gawking as you argued in favor of spontaneity, joy and fun to my mother – the antithesis of all those things. I remember my jaw dropping when she told me to grab my coat.
I grabbed my coat today with no illusions that this outing would be fun.
I remember your fascination with MacGuyver and duct tape. Duct tape on your binder. Duct tape on your wallet. Duct tape on everything. You claimed duct tape could fix anything.
I think of you and your optimism each time I open our toolbox.
I remember you walking high school hallways in Hawaiian shirts almost bright enough to match your smile. I remember rifling through department store racks and holding up several respectable choices for our upcoming matching shirt dance debut and having you shoot them all down as too predictable or plain. You countered with a bright white shirt trimmed in red that prominently featured the Trix cereal bunny. I protested. You insisted on spontaneity, joy and fun. You won again.
I wore a predictable and plain black dress to your and Emily’s funeral but inside my boots I wore brightly striped socks. I thought you would approve.
I remember the email exchanges where we attempted a virtual high school reunion – paragraphs exchanged to try to cover the years between then and now. You shared a little about work and a lot about Emily, Annabella, and Marcus. Your joy and pride and contentment were nearly tangible. You were reaping the kindness and joy and good you’d sown and loving every minute of it.
You were right about the merits of spontaneity, joy and fun.
But, you were wrong about duct tape.
It can’t fix this.
Please consider a contribution to the Derek and Emily Ramos Children Fund.