This was the eulogy I gave at my Uncle Steve's funeral in 2009. He was the last of my dad's siblings, and I couldn't put into sentences what he meant- yet in stanzas, I felt I did him some level of justice.
For Steve
It began with a whisper
His voice scratchy on the far end of the line
Phone lines don’t lend themselves to hugs and yet
And yet
that familiar deep laugh
the eyes that mirror my father my granny my sister myself
There was a time once
when he was the stuff of legend
surrounded by his Rhinemaidens
sitting atop his throne at his Delphi
a haven for the masses of uber-intelligent, anti-establishment miscreants
the kindest gentlest folk
from the corners of the Earth, from the bowels of the suburbs
from the dusty roads leading to the rock eating dogs and the Acropolis on the hill
He was a myth
He was a man
He was Woton, raised with Erda, Donner, and Froh
The Gods of the world
Those too great to continue on its terra as the mortal realm
was, simply, too small to hold them
Collectively, they formed the children of an empress and a wordsmith
The stories of whom are passed down
tales for babes of
childhoods spend reading
writing memorizing Scrabble backs
throwing dummies from a rooftop shooting
bbs and collecting pets
He was their leader, the greatest, the mightiest
The indesctructible the giant among men
The one who would not go gently into that good night
The one who challenged the heavens and the earth
Who fought though motion ceased
Who transformed and loved and fiercely learned
Who drew to him tens then hundreds then thousands
Who will never be forgotten and will always be loved.
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