About 2 years ago my best male friend died suddenly. Everyone was devastated. To add to the devestation, his partner couldn't find a religious person to run the memorial service, which was important to him. It turns out even in So Cal, there are pastors who are happy to sit in a greiving man's home and tell him that the 27 years spent together was an abomination before God. Hate the sin, love the sinner I suppose. Because He's a loving God.

His partner decided that I needed to run the service and give the eulogy. He decided that M was telling him that I needed to do this for everyone. Me, the atheist, was suddenly responsible for the religious needs of 150 people. Because the service was a month after M's death, I had time to write. And I wrote. And practiced reading it every day because every time I read it, I fell apart.

At the service my boyfriend and best female friend sat in the front row in case I couldn't get thru it. I did, but barely. It was the first and only time I've read the entire eulogy and the sevice's closing without crying. I really don't remember much of the service because I was just trying to get thru it without laying on the floor and sobbing in big gulps. My heart was, and still is, broken.

I was deeply honored by J's request. This was what J decided needed to happen to homor and remember his partner. M would have been delighted by all the attention that day...

Now when my little brother died, writing his eulogy was very different. He was a monster for most of our lives, so we wound up writing facts and focusing on the good. We all knew the bad but this was the last time his story would be told and perhaps by telling the good, something better could happen.