Vera wrote:

I just lost my dear uncle who was very close to me. In fact, it's only been 9 days since we buried him. 

I know exactly what you're going through. When he died, my perspectives on things changed, and how all that was in my mind prior to his death became trivial. 

I also realized that our family, relatives -- even distant ones that we didn't see for years -- friends, and even our neighbors will always be there in times of our sorrow. In Asia, as soon as the news broke that my uncle passed, 20 neighbors came over to offer their help: they volunteered to clean my uncle's house, volunteered to cook, they spent time at the wake until 4 a.m., they helped arrange the flowers, they gave their monetary donations.

Yes, I grieved, but I also know that he is still around because everything is made of consciousness. In fact, my eulogy wasn't all that sad, and would like to share it with you. Here goes: 

Eulogy for My Uncle

I spent a lot of time reading and researching about the phenomenon of death, and how I tried to philosophize about it with friends.

But when you passed, I was numb while waiting outside the emergency room. I couldn't seem to reach for the appropriate feelings for the immense grief that surrounded me.

I became totally aware of myself, and everything that existed around, as if my monkey mind was put to sleep so I could think; as if something closed my ears so I could listen.

There was nothing but silence, like the infinite just settled. Right then and there, time stood still -- its flow froze in every movement of my breath.

In the days that followed I lost my sense of awareness: I was nauseated, frightened, anxious, and guilty for not trying to keep up with you since I became an adult.

But I also felt at peace and relieved because I kept hearing our relatives say that at least you didn't suffer. And that yours was a peaceful death --- as if that train of thought can help alleviate everything.

On days when I think and realize that I will no longer see you with my own eyes, I grieve privately.

I try to go back mentally to when you were still physically around:

You became an uncle when I was born, although I called you “toto” instead. For me, you will always and forever own that term of endearment, as if "toto" was coined for you and you alone.

Remember when you took us for a walk at 5 a.m. when we were little? You made me believe that the sunrise on the horizon was actually buried treasure, and what baffled me endlessly is that nobody even dared to unearth it.

You took me everywhere in your motorcycle — the only one I ever got on, and I was sad when some guys decided it was a great idea to steal it.

When I had to draw a bird in first grade, you gladly did it for me complete with colors. I was amazed, and thought you were a great artist.

I had no idea why you could easily understand American movies when I could barely understand a thing. I always had to ask, “What did they say?” and you patiently interpreted everything for me in Ilonggo.

There were many nights when I pretended to be asleep while watching TV so you’d carry me upstairs to my parents’ room. I thought it was fun to be carried by you rather than walk by myself.

There are a thousand memories of you forever stored in my mind that I can choose to revisit whenever I want.
These are memories of you that we both made together, that I experienced throughout the years.

But there are still more than a million future experiences and conversations with you that I can conjure so vividly in my imagination, all by myself, to make you alive once more.

To my oftentimes well-organized mind, you just had one grand adventure — to a place where time and space are irrelevant, where we can still communicate through our thoughts, where there’s nothing but unconditional love, divine beauty, and absolute truth.

Goodbyes are for those who love with their senses, who are limited by their sights; but for those who love with their heart and soul, you will always be here.

So there’s no use to cry in your grave, because you are not there:

You are in the rain, in the sun, in the wind

In the air that I breathe, in every breath that I take

You are in the clouds high up on a summer day

In songs that I hear, and poems that I read

You are in the entire ocean, the birds in the skies, the flowers in the fields

You are blessed with peaceful sleep, eternal youth, great immortality.

Just like how the setting of the sun or the moon doesn’t make either go away, your passing is a dawn that can never make you go away.

You are always loved, Toto. Thank you for everything, and for being everywhere.

 

This is simply beautiful Vera. Bless you 💞

Vera wrote:

I just lost my dear uncle who was very close to me. In fact, it's only been 9 days since we buried him. 

I know exactly what you're going through. When he died, my perspectives on things changed, and how all that was in my mind prior to his death became trivial. 

I also realized that our family, relatives -- even distant ones that we didn't see for years -- friends, and even our neighbors will always be there in times of our sorrow. In Asia, as soon as the news broke that my uncle passed, 20 neighbors came over to offer their help: they volunteered to clean my uncle's house, volunteered to cook, they spent time at the wake until 4 a.m., they helped arrange the flowers, they gave their monetary donations.

Yes, I grieved, but I also know that he is still around because everything is made of consciousness. In fact, my eulogy wasn't all that sad, and would like to share it with you. Here goes: 

Eulogy for My Uncle

I spent a lot of time reading and researching about the phenomenon of death, and how I tried to philosophize about it with friends.

But when you passed, I was numb while waiting outside the emergency room. I couldn't seem to reach for the appropriate feelings for the immense grief that surrounded me.

I became totally aware of myself, and everything that existed around, as if my monkey mind was put to sleep so I could think; as if something closed my ears so I could listen.

There was nothing but silence, like the infinite just settled. Right then and there, time stood still -- its flow froze in every movement of my breath.

In the days that followed I lost my sense of awareness: I was nauseated, frightened, anxious, and guilty for not trying to keep up with you since I became an adult.

But I also felt at peace and relieved because I kept hearing our relatives say that at least you didn't suffer. And that yours was a peaceful death --- as if that train of thought can help alleviate everything.

On days when I think and realize that I will no longer see you with my own eyes, I grieve privately.

I try to go back mentally to when you were still physically around:

You became an uncle when I was born, although I called you “toto” instead. For me, you will always and forever own that term of endearment, as if "toto" was coined for you and you alone.

Remember when you took us for a walk at 5 a.m. when we were little? You made me believe that the sunrise on the horizon was actually buried treasure, and what baffled me endlessly is that nobody even dared to unearth it.

You took me everywhere in your motorcycle — the only one I ever got on, and I was sad when some guys decided it was a great idea to steal it.

When I had to draw a bird in first grade, you gladly did it for me complete with colors. I was amazed, and thought you were a great artist.

I had no idea why you could easily understand American movies when I could barely understand a thing. I always had to ask, “What did they say?” and you patiently interpreted everything for me in Ilonggo.

There were many nights when I pretended to be asleep while watching TV so you’d carry me upstairs to my parents’ room. I thought it was fun to be carried by you rather than walk by myself.

There are a thousand memories of you forever stored in my mind that I can choose to revisit whenever I want.
These are memories of you that we both made together, that I experienced throughout the years.

But there are still more than a million future experiences and conversations with you that I can conjure so vividly in my imagination, all by myself, to make you alive once more.

To my oftentimes well-organized mind, you just had one grand adventure — to a place where time and space are irrelevant, where we can still communicate through our thoughts, where there’s nothing but unconditional love, divine beauty, and absolute truth.

Goodbyes are for those who love with their senses, who are limited by their sights; but for those who love with their heart and soul, you will always be here.

So there’s no use to cry in your grave, because you are not there:

You are in the rain, in the sun, in the wind

In the air that I breathe, in every breath that I take

You are in the clouds high up on a summer day

In songs that I hear, and poems that I read

You are in the entire ocean, the birds in the skies, the flowers in the fields

You are blessed with peaceful sleep, eternal youth, great immortality.

Just like how the setting of the sun or the moon doesn’t make either go away, your passing is a dawn that can never make you go away.

You are always loved, Toto. Thank you for everything, and for being everywhere.

 

Thank you, Vera. This meant so much and I definitely can relate!