What passion and eulogies have in common

 "What is passion? It is surely the becoming of a person." – John Boorman

I never have to make time for what I'm passionate about; it's quite the opposite. When I'm doing what I love - learning being one of them - I tend to lose track of time and have to remind myself to do other things that may need my attention. I love learning the way I love eating good food. And I've found that it has a whimsical way of weaving itself into every corner of my life.

 After gratitude journaling for several years (another passion), I decided to take a deeper dive into the true meaning of grateful living. I’ve since discovered gratitude and learning are lenses through which I view the world.

Nothing shaped my understanding of grateful living quite like my daughter’s stroke in 2017. This life-altering event left her permanently disabled and me a caregiver, patient advocate, and healing companion. One might say I learned to live grateful the hard way; to some extent, that’s true. After all, no one in their right mind would want their child (or anyone else) to endure suffering and loss, but the deeper truth is that the journey revealed some unexpected blessings.

The lessons I've gained since that pivotal moment eight years ago have been priceless. They helped me realize that each day brings its own blessings and lessons, and it's up to me to turn them into action. Therefore, whenever I find myself in unfavorable situations, I look for a blessing and/or a lesson, or what I call a lesson.

Several months ago, I attended the funeral of a close family member's life partner. I didn't know her well, but in addition to wanting to be there for my cousin, I went seeking a blesson. I ended up with two.

The first blesson came as a solemn reminder: You can learn a lot about a person after they die.

As individuals honored the deceased’s memory with stories of how she had touched their lives, amidst the sorrow and tears, sprinkled with moments of light-hearted humor, a distinguishing characteristic of the departed shone through: her passion for cooking and delight in sharing meals with family. Raised hands, nodding heads, and "resounding “Amens" were testaments that almost every relative in the parlor had enjoyed some of her signature dishes. She had left behind something that would last long after her departure.

The second lesson: Whether we acknowledge it or not, we write our eulogy by how we live, and it inevitably shows up when we die.

After final reflections were given, the pastor stepped up to the podium, and his first words were: "There is no need for me to say much; she has already been eulogized."  Even though he went on to give a few words of comfort to the family, his initial remark lingered in my mind.

As I drove home, bittersweet questions emerged. When I die, what will be my story, my distinguishing attributes? Who will eulogize me? Will it be friends and family who truly know me and can candidly share heartfelt stories, or will it be a polished speaker delivering a formal eulogy with no genuine connection to my life or my experiences?

The answers came quickly: I want to be celebrated by those who genuinely know me. I hope their reflections highlight my unwavering pursuit of my passions and my commitment to inspiring others to live their best life. 

So here are a couple of questions I hope you will ponder: What will be said about you when your time on Earth ends? Will your passions be reflected in your eulogy, or will you take them to your grave, untapped and unexpressed?

Don’t let your eulogy be the most remarkable story NEVER TOLD!

Find your fire, Be Well!

Need help identifying and pursuing your passion? Contact me at smallchange@myrtlerussell.com.

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