My Eulogy Essay

     The purpose of this chapter is to look at the relationship between the process of grieving and pastoral counselling. This understanding of the grief process is very important for a pastoral counsellor as he is responsible for both families and individuals. There are

I sat down to write this eulogy the weekend before my mother died. I was in a chair next to her bed, keeping her company as she dozed. Initially, I thought this would be the hardest thing I would ever write. But the truth is, as I watched her sleep, I took comfort in knowing she was lost in a dream-world instead of plagued by her dark reality—and the words poured out of me like I too was lost in a world of dreams. Dreams that brought me back to the imaginary games we played when I was just a kid, secrets confided between a mother & dauggter, lessons learned, I love you”s exchanged, her beaming pride, our friendship, arguments that exhausted both of us, and the reconciliations that always brought us back together.

I had never given much thought into how I would die. There’s something about being young that causes us to believe we’re invincible. It’s not like dying young is uncommon, it’s just that there’s something extra despairing about a life ending before it had really begun. Over the past 18 years, I’ve never thought twice about my mortality. I mean, it wasn’t anything special to me. I knew that I would eventually die, but eventuallies aren’t always as far as you think. Here I am, only 18 years old, my cold body

“Death is everywhere,” were my counterpart’s wife’s response after I told her how a young woman whom I saw getting sick the day before on the market bus has died. Her words wasn’t a complain but simply a statement, an acceptance of life as it is in West Africa. People get sick, sometime they make it and sometime they don’t. Sometime even the healthy died. There is no discrimination between children and adults or men and women. Such was just a glib in our afternoon conversation, but accurately represented my Peace Corps experience — a collection of ephemeral moments that leave permanent and irreplaceable impression serving as the inspiration to my pursuit of a career in public health development, and for less death and more living. So even though it has been a while since I left Ghana, the perpetual sunny days of Ghana has not left me. Thoughts about my friends, my community, their development needs, their health issues and the potential life saving solution continue to circulate my mind as if I was still living in the midst of it all.

Provide spiritual support to a diverse population of patients, family members, and associates at a 300 beds, inpatient/outpatient medical center.

It has been said that, it would be a good thing if newspapers published more photographs of death and dying. There are many reasons why people say that photographs of dead and or dying people should or should not be published by newspapers. For example, some people say that pictures of people dying should be published in newspapers because death is a huge part of life. While members of the opposition state that death should remain private, and it should not be published, especially in a newspaper. The argument for or against publishing pictures of death will be disputed forever, however, I believe that photographs of death are appropriate, and I will argue why I believe in the publishing

Thank you for encouraging your daughter, she learnt a lot and now we can move on on the next song! It's great that you want to motivate her to practice more but if you don't mind, I advice you to force her less and let her to do more on her own. She is only seven so it's too much to assume that she can play her homework perfectly. I think it's enough if she wants to play piano and thinks it's funny and enjoyable. If she has to practice very much, it's better that we'll practice together on the lesson.

On Monday, October 30 2017, I went to Pruis Hall and heard Alex Sheen, the founder of the nonprofit “Because I Said I Would.” His dad, a pharmacist in Cleveland, was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer. To combat the disease, he went through chemo radiation which seemed to be working, and he was able to go out with his family for Chinese food. However, the cancer later spread to his liver, pancreas and brain, and resulted in death. Alex decided to give a eulogy at the funeral, in which he decided he would start fulfilling more promises. Here, he first said the phrase “Because I said I would,” which later led to his going viral on social media with millions of likes and his starting of a blog. Through class discussions and presentations,

How do you write a eulogy when you don’t even know the definition of one? I was ten years old at the time and life had just gotten a lot harder for me. How can someone expect me to write a eulogy to read at my grandmother’s funeral when prior to that my biggest life decision was what to wear to school everyday. I am now seventeen years old and still to this day that was the hardest thing and one of the most stressful things I have ever had to do. At this point in my life I am having to sit down and decide what I want to do for the rest of my life, but that isn’t the hardest thing I have ever had to do. My parents left it up to me, whether or not i wanted to write a tribute to read at my grandmother’s funeral. I said i would do it but i kept putting it off until I got fed up with myself. I was putting it off because every time i sat down to begin writing i would get overwhelmed with emotion and memories. My mom was sitting with my trying to help, she and everyone else kept telling me to remember the good times, but at my age there weren’t that many that i could remember. All I could think is that this isn’t fair. I was too young to have lost such an important person in my life. I kept asking myself: Why me? Why her? Why now? I was ten years old, i had just lost my best friend, and i was writing a eulogy; little did i know that it would change my life.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Three weeks later my mother left a message on my cell, cordially inviting me to dinner. Normally, I wouldn’t have hesitated, but her invite placed me in a bit of a quagmire. Due to the fact, that on my first day as an apprentice Tommy wanted to know if I really had what it took to be a tattoo artist so he placed a tattoo of Aphrodite whispering into my left ear. For hours, I contemplate the question – to go or not to go? Only after several rounds of eeny, meeny, miney, moe, did I finally accepted her invitation. Maybe, just maybe, I thought, she had put our ideological differences behind her and the Tattoo wouldn’t dominate the evening’s conversation and all right, who am I kidding, as soon as, she lays eyes on the tattoo her acidity

“Il y a des fleurs partout pour qui veut bien les voir, Henry Matisse,” or as google translate told me, “There are flowers everywhere for those who want to see them.” That had been the first line of the first letter. I remember every detail of the letter, as if I had found it in my faded yellow mailbox just this morning. How could I not? This letter had changed my life forever.

It’s been 7 years now that I’ve concealed the truth about the death of my husband. The events that happened that day haunts me every time I look at the spot where he lay dead. My child who is now 7 years old have been asking where his daddy is, but I couldn’t respond immediately. It was difficult to get over with. I’ve made a very big sin in my life. The police had no idea who did it, but the search kept on going, day and night. I didn’t want to tell them the truth, I did it for a reason. I don’t want him to leave me and my poor child. In any case, despite everything I still believe that I still picked the right choice of not telling them.

When i saw him, my heart rate went up as i started running towards him and my eyes started to get watery. I hugged him awkwardly because he didn’t get up, I was hugging his head. I was choking him but i didn’t want to let go because i was so excited. Then he told me let me go you're choking me and i'm like i'm sorry and we laughed. He said “ I was going to get up but once i saw you i couldn't move i just tried and couldn’t”. Which was totally normal and i told him it was okay. I sat next to him and my mom presented herself and so did my sister and my mom left ot the car and my sister just sat in front taking pictures. I was just in shock i couldn't believe what was currently happening i would just look at him and tell him your real and he would just laugh at me and say i dont think im fake and we would laugh together. Tears running down my eyes as i would hold his hand and look at him and he would wipe my tears and tell me its okay. We sat there for about 10-15 minutes just talking and i asked him if he wanted to go eat and he asked me if i was hungry and i said yes but i really wasn't. We went outside got in the car and told my mom and so we went to this mexican restaurant and i ordered tacos as usual and so did everyone else. But i couldn't eat i tried and i couldn't i was just staring at him and admiring him with every moment he would make and every time he would smile i would smile. He thought i was nervous of eating eating in front of him and that wasn't it i was just

“Like the mistake of cramming all your studying into the night before your most pivotal day of the year, every students endorse of value”. I turned towards mom to see her face of stunned confusion, not knowing what to say or do. I then look at grandma, thinking of a way to break the silence. “And when you carried her for 9 months?” I asked, trying to stay in contact with that wash of brown. “Oh, it was so difficult. The pain any little child fears. But when she came out, your mom had me thanking the lord for a gift I'll never replace; even with a girl's best friend, diamonds!” she jokingly gasped. “I could endure any pain that came after it too, just to have your mother wrapped around my arms, then she gave me a smile ”. And then she gave me a smile that just seemed so genuinely sweet with just the right angle to showcase the faint creases of her laugh lines; flourished by the years she had set her foot on earth. It was that unexpected gush of warmth that went through me as I saw that dimple peak through. Seeing grandma smile gave me that slow-mo feeling no american movie forgets to showcase. When she smiled, I lost focus of the distraction around, apart from the woman who was in front of me. The woman who owned a smile so contagious, it was so bright. Bright enough to light up New York city after dark.