The Eulogy follows a common structure.
‘Mum was born in 1941 and lived in Newcastle until she met my dad in 1960…’
‘Dad grew up on a cattle station until he got a job promotion in Sydney and moved us to the big smoke…and along came our youngest sibling…’
‘Mum worked as a nurse until she retired and spent her days camping and fishing with dad…’
Not many speeches shake us in our polished shoes. I want to know the guts of their life! Their favourite dinner dishes and greatest passions in life. What gave them goosebumps? What made them smile with sparkles in their eyes? What made them slip into bed each night fulfilled and happy to be alive?
I guess we don’t hear of these details too often because sometimes the only person who knows these special stories is the person themselves, so how fricking cool would it be if the deceased could pop up for a couple of minutes to tell us!
Well that’s exactly what happened today.
No, the casket lid didn’t spring open.
Twelve months ago, Robin, our deceased had a conversation with her daughter on the back porch. Unbeknown to Robin, her daughter was recording the entire conversation.
In charge of the media, I pressed play and you could hear a pin drop. It truly was incredible to hear the voice of the person in their coffin. The chapel was silent as Robin told stories of her adolescence, her boyfriends and left out no juicy bits! Robin’s daughter stood at the lectern, tears creeping down her flushed cheeks as her mother’s voice echoed throughout the four walls.
The recording finished, I pressed Stop, and Robin was gone forever.