Death Series Part 2 - Eulogies


Welcome back to the three-part series on death! Get your tissues ready, because this is going to be a tear-jerker. Today we are going to talk all about eulogies. A eulogy is a speech or writing in praise of someone else, often given upon that someone’s death.  Seeing as I am not one to leave things to chance, I’ve taken it upon myself to write my own eulogy, which you can use as a formula for any you may have to write.  Feel free to take notes.

Hello friends and family! It’s me, Grandmeryl, speaking from the casket over there. I know what you’re thinking—wow I can really throw my voice!  In reality, I wrote this many years ago, in an effort to make sure everything I want to be said about me is said.

First of all, thank you for coming today. It means a lot.  [Note to reader: In the event that my funeral is during the work week, please heavily emphasize “a lot.” If it’s already the weekend, you can skip that sentence entirely.] I lived a long, happy life of over one hundred years [adjust as need be] and have a few pearls of wisdom I wish to bestow upon those who are here today. So, without further ado, I present Grandmeryl’s Five Keys to Happy Life:

One – Always order the white rice                                                                 

In our current era of wellness trends, I shake my finger at this obsession with specialty diets. Low carb? Whole grain? Gluten free? No one I know can even agree on what gluten is, by the way. But what we can agree on is that white rice tastes miles better than brown, so stop pussyfooting around and live a little! I can’t anymore, so do it for me. (Do you get it? I’m dead!)

Two – Go for a walk

No, not right now! We’re only on number two of five. Taking a long walk once a day will make you happy according to science, but if that’s not enough to convince you, chew on this: any day now, all the cars on the road will be self-driving, meaning they will all be programmed to halt and make way for human pedestrians, meaning when you’re out for your daily hour-long stroll, you can cause traffic delays all around town simply by crossing the street. What could be more fun than that?

[Note to reader: skip this point entirely if I died from being struck by an autonomous vehicle.] 

Three – Go to bed early and wake up late

I have slept at least eight hours a night for the last fifty years and I can’t recommend it enough: eight hours sleeping plus/minus a half an hour on each end for bedtime prep means you only have to interact with other human beings for fifteen hours a day TOPS. Plus, surviving on less than eight hours of sleep a night is for the feeble-minded—you end up with bags under your eyes, a grouchy demeanor, and a caffeine habit you can’t easily shake.  Trust me. I’m literally in the longest sleep of my existence, and so far so good!

Four – Buy a second pair of those shoes you love

I know what you’re thinking: You can’t take it with you! Ha ha ha. Turns out, joke’s on you, audience.  Peer into my casket and you’ll see I’m being buried with two pairs of Walmart slippers, one on my feet and one on my hands, in case they get chilly.  The number of times I’ve purchased an article of clothing I’ve gone on to love, only to grimace when I learn they’re all gone when trying to buy a second, is too many to count.  Do children even learn to count anymore? I digress. Ever since I started living as though I have a conjoined twin and need two shirts, pants, shoes, etc., I’ve been happy as a clam with two shells!

Five – Hire Hugh Grant* to read your eulogy

Haven’t you been enjoying his sultry voice this whole time? It’s amazing he’s outlived me, I know, but he has Hollywood blood, meaning he’ll live forever. [Note to reader: Hugh, baby, thanks for doing this.]  And technically speaking, this point may not have contributed to my happy life, having a happy death is important, too.  What’s that? It’s not Hugh Grant* reading this? Hugh didn’t remember me from all the times I watched his films alone in my bedroom? Seems suspicious, but okay, not to worry. Just peer under your seat, grab the stones I’ve asked the Rabbi to place under them, and pelt them at the speaker.

* Substitute with Morgan Freeman if need be. 

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