On October 4, 1997, friends and family gathered into a church for the funeral. The tiny white casket, hardly bigger than a breadbox, sat on a small silver stand in front of the altar.
I stood at the lecturn and delivered a eulogy for my son, something I'd composed the night before. I'm reprinting it here, in its entirety, with editing.
(Continue reading "Noble, Part V - Eulogy")
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No forgive me,
If you no longer live
if you, my beloved, my love
if you have died
all the leaves will fall in my breast
it will rain on my soul night and day
the snow will burn my heart
I shall walk with frost and fire and death and snow
My feet will want to walk where you are sleeping
but I shall stay alive
~Pablo Neruda (La Muerta)
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