Lara’s Eulogy

What do I say about this woman when my feelings for her are ineffable? Jessica suggested I say she had straight teeth. Because “she’d like that”… Jess is right. She had beautiful teeth. Everything about her was beautiful. But still. A eulogy? I’m not good at speeches. I’m too soft-spoken to be a wonderful orator. But maybe I don’t have to write a speech. I can write a love letter instead. So think of this as an open love letter to everyone.

Zen master Thích Nhất Hạnh wrote, “A real love letter is made of insight, understanding, and compassion. Otherwise, it’s not a love letter. A true love letter can produce a transformation in the other person, and therefore the world. But before it produces a transformation in the other person, it has to produce a transformation within us. Some letters may take the whole of our lifetime to write.” This letter certainly took the whole of my lifetime to write.

Lara died one week before winter began and it’s now almost a week after it ended. That winter proved to be both one of the darkest and brightest periods of my life. Life after Lara is dark and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t had several dark thoughts in these last three months. Many of them I’ve shared with a lot of you. Some of them I’ll never freely admit to having had. To sum them all up neatly, let’s just say that there isn’t much I wouldn’t do to trade places with her. Yes, I understand what kind of complications that would create if I could ever truly have that choice…

But there have been some bright moments too. At least when I look for them. I’ve met new friends and forged deeper connections with old ones. I’ve learned to put myself first without it being at the expense of everyone I know. And I’m learning to smile more. Learning that a wound continuously reopened will never heal.

When I think of Lara it’s easy for me to identify things I loved about her. Including her teeth. I loved her ability to make anyone feel special. She had magic when it came to connecting with people. She could make anyone feel at ease and like lifelong friends within just a couple of minutes of meeting. In an existence where our time is finite, I can think of nothing else so magical.

Lara and I met later in life than I wish we would’ve. But if you know anything about us—and each of you does—you would know that we made up for that lost time. James and Chad have described us as ”the kind of couple that makes you borderline sick” and “disgustingly cute to behold” and “disgustingly functional”. I accept those descriptions even if I didn’t find loving Lara so disgusting. By the way, Lara sends her regrets that she was, in fact, not a man trying to catfish me. Sorry, guys.

I digress. I was talking about lost time. Next, a thief came along and stole even more time from us and we had a choice to make within some very narrow guidelines as laid out to us by a wasting disease. We could choose to be bitter and angry and defiantly fight a foe we could never hope to beat. Or we could riposte and fight on our terms. Cancer ended her life. But try as it might, it never killed her spirit. She had challenges that none of us here can entirely identify with. We can get close. But until we’re in her shoes, we’ll never get there. I’ll never forget some of her last serene words to me after I asked how she was one morning. She looked at me and said, “Peaceful. Because of you. Everything is okay. Because of you.” Tell me that’s not kicking cancer’s ass!

In the days since December 14, 2022, cancer has tried to enshroud me in dysphoria. It’s such a relentless disease. But I made a promise to Lara: I promised her that I would be okay. I truly believe that she held onto life long enough to believe I’d make good on that promise. That’s where the hard work is coming in. Taking care of Lara was easy. It’s living without her that’s so damned hard.

Eddie Vedder once wrote, “I know I was born and I know that I’ll die / The in-between is mine.” Lara lit a fire in me that I didn’t know could burn this hot. It’s incumbent upon me to keep that flame stoked. If I didn’t approach the rest of my life with zeal and passion, she’d give me the stink eye. I think most of you here know the look I’m talking about. The one that sees right through your bullshit and calls you out without uttering a word. And she could do it with a straight face or with a smile of perfectly straight teeth. Right, Jess?

She would remind me that happiness is an inside job. She would tell me to live my eulogy instead of my résumé. And for crying out loud, she’d tell me to stop putting energy into things that are wasting my time and effort. She had an unmatched ability to get to the heart of the matter during any challenging conversation. But maybe her true superpower was in helping people understand their worth. She certainly left things better than she found them. I often think of her legacy and a lot of words come to mind. Honesty, I don’t know anyone who was truer to herself than Lara.

A friend told me that the highest honor he could give Lara was if I can look back in five years and say that she taught me how much I deserve and how much I could love and be loved. Don, it hasn’t been five years yet. But I can say these things already. I’m still working on getting all of the things I thought were out of my reach before she molded me though.

Goodbye, my love. We are all better people for having known you. You made my world bigger; you made my eyes brighter; and you made my heart softer. My life’s mission now is to continue that trend. To everyone here, I’m an imperfect surrogate for Lara. But thank you for accepting me into this fold of wonderful people. Lara was choosy about who she kept close to her and while I’m honored that she chose me, I am further honored that you all have also chosen me. Nicole and Colleen, I hope you two, Andria, and Kirk are ready to put up with me for the rest of our lives. Carol, Kerry, John, Linda, Eric, and Ruth I love you forever. Alex, Allison, David, and Micah, if you have room for a brother, I’m your guy. Sara, Jess, Jordan, and Jeremy…I think you need a cool uncle. If I find one I’ll send him your way!

Kristen, you’ve been solid as a rock for me throughout this journey. From the time you told me “Pancreatic cancer doesn’t give breaks, Sweetheart” all the way to now. I love you and Nick. But I never want to drive one of Nick’s vehicles again! Jeff and Kate, thank you for everything. Our conversations have stuck with me more than either of you probably realizes. Dale and Nathalie, Lara always spoke highly of you and I’m so glad you were here for this.

Then to my innermost tribe, James, Don, Chad, and Josie. We all go back more than 20 years. We’ve been through a lot. Marriages. Divorces. Catfishing. Job loss. Retirement. Children being born. Spouses dying. I love you. Thank you for being here. Thank you for keeping me alive. If anyone here is really stuck with me, it’s all of you.

I’d like to close with a final quote from Maya Angelou: “You have no idea what your legacy will be because your legacy is every life you touch.” 

Go live your legacies.