Friday, October 22, 2010

Eulogy

My father was a Buddahist. His last wishes in his suicide note were to be returned to the grounds of the Zen Mountain Monastery in Upstate New York. I flew in to attend his funeral two weeks after I delivered the ashes. I have no experience with Buddahists as my Dad and I remained apart on this part of his life. I didn't know what to expect. It was strange and beautiful and the most alien experience of my life.

What follows is my Eulogy. Not something I've ever expected to have to write:

I don’t have much experience with eulogies. I’ve been lucky enough in my life
that funerals are very rare things and therefore I find myself at a loss for
what to say or even where to begin.


Two nuns walk into a bar…you think the second one would’ve of ducked. My father told me that joke when I was nine. It wasn’t funny in 1989 either. This place is beautiful. Peaceful. I can see why my father was in love. I find myself trying to find a way to describe a man that was better known here than I could ever hope to understand.


My father was many things: smart, funny, handsome. And luckily for me, he passed
down those traits. Modesty is also something in which we Boucher men have an
inherent gift. My father was an adventurer, a seeker. My childhood with him
never once was dull. As his fearless co pilot I’ve seen the country in all its
splendor, including the 6 hours we spent at the cowboy hall of fame, mostly in
the John Wayne wing.


He was a searcher. He spent his entire life looking for calm, serene peace. The world was noisy for him. The volume was excruciating. It was this place that muted everything. And I thank each and everyone one of you for this.


This hurts. This hurts so bad. And it’s a pain that will never really go away. I miss him. He was my father, my first role model, and furthermore my very first best friend. It was me and him against the world for the first decade of my life. And though time and distance grew between us, I still smile when I remember him springing me out of elementary school because he wanted to go see Batman or The Ghostbusters with his partner in crime.


Some of you here today and others I’ve met in the past couple of weeks have told me many, many stories of what type of man my father was. Thank you. Your kindness
to my family and myself in these hard times has been immeasurable.

To my father I want to say only this…thank you. Thank you for everything you gave me. Thank you for imprinting a character on me that would eventually help persuade a beautiful and miraculous girl to marry me. Thank you.


My father’s last words to my wife and I were this: I love you and Sarah. Know that the love I have for you permeates the universe and know that I will be in the breeze and never far from you.


I miss you old man, and I will be watching the wind.

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