This is a photo of my uncle Dave helping my mummy out of the car at her wedding to my daddy 23 years ago tomorrow:
Check out those pants! Tomorrow is also Dave's memorial service, which is actually a big celebration in his honor. He died a few months ago.
I think I'm going to talk. I think this is what I'm going to say:
Dave would have loved this party. The consummate host, he’d be making sure that everything runs smoothly and remedying the situation when it doesn’t, he’d make sure that we all have a full glass in our hand—Dave is responsible for the first time I got drunk, by the way—and he’d ensure that each of us feels cared for and special.
That’s what I miss the most: at some point after greeting me with a lively “how’s my darlin’!”, Dave always found a moment to check in with me, no matter what the occasion. He really wanted to know what was happening in my life, and it was really easy to tell him. He made me feel like an equal, like the most important person in the world to him, and he’d offer advice so insightful that after so many of those conversations I can’t remember a single piece of it, I just know that it changed me and my world.
I know he didn’t do this just for me, I’m sure a lot of you know exactly what I’m talking about—and I’m not even jealous.
There is a dichotomy happening here: Looking forward to this weekend I felt a strange mix of excitement and trepidation. How great it is to be in this beautiful place—and I don’t think I’ve ever seen it as beautiful as it is today—with these wonderful people! But I keep expecting to hear Dave’s laugh. This is a time to mourn, but it’s a celebration. There is laughter and there are tears. And that’s okay. With that in mind, I wanted to share with you this quote that I keep returning to. It’s from Rumi, a 13th century Persian poet and theologian:
“We are the mirror as well as the face in it. We are tasting the taste this minute of eternity. We are pain and what cures pain, both. We are the sweet cold water and the jar that pours.”
Please let me know what you think. Is it too speachy? Does it make sense and flow well? It is okay to use words like "dichotomy" and "consummate"? Should I go to the podium or talk from my chair? Is it normal for me to be so anxious about it?
I'll be awaiting your imput...