Three years ago today I gave the eulogy for my only son Paul Wayne Bright Jr., at his “Celebration of Life” in front of more than 300 people who gathered with his family to share who he was, and what he meant to them. At that time we didn’t know he had CTE from youth football. We wouldn’t receive this news until April the following year.
When I went to the podium to speak, I looked up at the crowd. I saw my daughters who looked confident in my ability to pull it off, and his brothers, and his dad and other mom Christy. The rest of the room had a look of horror and surprise on so many of the faces I went off outline of what I had rehearsed to address the room’s fear of his mom giving his eulogy.
I looked as many of them in the eye as I could and I proudly proclaimed, “I know what many of you are thinking. How can his mom get up and speak today? How will she do it without falling apart?”
I continued to explain to them that from early after his death I knew I wanted to give the eulogy. I felt it was my greatest honor to plan his service and share who he was. I wanted when people left that day to know him better than before, to leave feeling uplifted and not as sad as when they arrived.
With my words we were giving permission to laugh and feel joy even though he was gone in the physical. We could truly celebrate him because after that day I explained we would have many days to cry and mourn his loss, but today we needed to heal. To feel his presence, feel his love and to feel us loving him.
With the help of a PowerPoint titled, “Giving” I shared his two families, him as a baby, moments that stood out in my mind and what a caring and kind man he had become. I didn’t write a speech, I spoke from my heart on the spot. I didn’t really think you could write these moments anyway. For me, I wanted it to be real and authentic and in the moment. It was all of that and more.
His sister Tiffani was the MC, his dad did the home slide show of photos. We had to have two. One for generic memories and a second just for sports. Yes, his childhood was a life full of sports, especially football.
One of the owners the company he worked for named Liz, told stories of Paul on the job. His service wouldn’t have been complete without this part. His work had become his life. Being a good employee and assistant chef was his main focus. He had found his calling in life. At 24 that is an amazing gift and many leave this Earth never knowing this. We were so grateful he had.
His roommate spoke too and even one of his cousins got up last minute to share, mentioning he was inspired after the eulogy to feel more happiness that day remembering who Paul was.
It was a true day of celebration, giving, loss and healing. It was the first big step in a lifetime we will spend missing him and honoring his memory. I realized as the day was winding down there will need to be many more opportunities to heal to survive his loss. My mind begin to think of ways how.
Three years later one of those magical ideas to help people grieving heal has come to fruition with our “Tackling Grief” Monthly call in work shop with grief expert Marcia Jenkins.
Grief doesn’t end after the services or burial is over. It’s a life time process. Some days are better than others, but the loss is felt every day. This workshop helps me connect with others like me in an easy format of just calling in and entering a pass code. It’s been life changing.
If you are grieving the loss of a loved one, or have suffered an injury and grieving who you once were, please join us the first Monday of each month at 5:00 pm PST for an hour of love and healing in a safe space.