Art: A Eulogy

By Claire McConnell

I’m not quite sure why I was chosen to speak on your behalf. Wouldn’t it be more fitting if, I don’t know, Monet or Picasso were here? Even your local tag man could do a better job than I’m about to do. You won’t be given the service you deserve- but I know you deserved a proper one.

The funeral planner made no floral arrangements because there was no florist. I suppose, she could not bring herself to work in your absence. Your program is written in inter font, a decision I would find distasteful if this were not your funeral. Also, Decision died last Tuesday.

The pallbearers walked in with a vacant expression that spoke neither grief nor indifference. In fact, as I watched them pass by, I noticed their irises and cheeks lacked any color. If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume the coffin was for them.

[pause]

I would say people aren’t taking your death well, but I don’t think most people know you’re dead at all. I’m not even sure you’re dead. But unfortunately, I’m saying that as I stare at your coffin, and I would call that ironic except Irony died just a week ago.

[pause]

How could I be sure? I see you everywhere, or, at least, I think I see you. I see colors and shapes. I hear sounds arranged in different ways. All these things remind me of you. But they aren’t you. And I have to remind myself of that every day which is so... hard. 

It’s a funny feeling, having felt something slipping from you for so long, but its death still feeling abrupt. It reminds me of this one story I read about a kid who grew up with this dog. The dog had gotten really old, and the parents didn’t want to have the kid see his childhood pet die. So, they took the crippled dog, and Indiana Jones swapped him with a dog that looked almost identical to the old one. It wasn’t until 2 months later that the kid realized. He was destroyed. And it turns out his parents weren’t prepared for that kind of grief- the kind where realization means death.

The whole thing could have been avoided if the parents had just left it alone. The kid was going to realize at one point or another, at least that was more likely than him believing he had an immortal dog. If I were that kid, geez, I would feel so foolish. How could I not notice? Something that was so important to me, just… gone, and it took me so long to figure it out. And because what? Because an imposter took his place? I’d like to believe that kind of thing would never happen to me, but here I am. Seeing you in places you’re not there.

You were- [pause]- the greatest idea mankind ever devised. I think most people know that. But right now, [pause] I look at the stands, and I realize that I am giving a speech to an empty chapel. [shout] Is anybody listening? Are you listening? Geez, I sure hope not, because if you were you’d be really disappointed in this half-baked speech I’m giving. 

[pause]

I’m hoping this isn’t the end. If I were Hindu or Buddhist, I might believe you’ll be reincarnated one day. But honestly, I don’t think you’ll ever come back the way I want you too. I think we blew it. I think we had one shot- and we blew it. 

[long pause]

The officiant never came, either. He’s been very busy as of late, and your funeral got swept under the rug. It’s a tough time to be in the funeral business. 

 What an untimely death you’ve had! You should’ve had the most beautiful funeral- something for the history books. Banisters of Greek statues, sedilia engraved with Egyptian figures, windows stained like Notre Dame, tapestries woven by the Native Americans. Beethoven and Mozart should’ve arisen from the dead and arranged the most beautiful of symphonies to be played at the end of this very eulogy- Coco Chanel should’ve taken one good disapproving look at me and demanded she design me something more appropriate to wear!  Should’ve, should’ve, should’ve...

But- [pause]- the mourners never came. They were at work and at war, and your body was another pound among the rest. I know it won’t be long until my time comes, too. I look at this empty, ugly chapel and I wonder why I’m even here. Your gravestone is awaiting your coffin to be buried. The world is unknowingly awaiting, too. This eulogy is waiting to be over, and I’m resisting it’s pull every second. Every period is a mark of patient anticipation that will cease the second I admit defeat. Because, of course, this will be the last eulogy mankind ever writes. But I don’t feel honored or special- I feel dirty. There’s this… blood on my hands, your last breath in my throat.

[pause]

I hope you know that I did the best I could. Truly, I think it’s the best anyone could have done and that’s not a testament to my immaculate eulogy skills or, I guess, me-logy skills.

We miss you dearly, my friend.  Soon, we will all join you in silent retreat.

[end]