Eulogy
My uncle died alone in a hospital room.
The doctors called him a “non-compliant frequent flyer”.
For years I checked if he was alive through arrests.org.
When he made it 6 months between bookings I’d worry.
He lived in a condemnable house with no running water.
As a kid he let me ride on the back of his four-wheeler.
He smelled like engine oil and tobacco then.
Above his bed hung a deers head with wonky eyes.
He drank Dr Pepper and scattered bottles all over the floor.
He once caught his own car on fire because he wanted a new one.
He brought my grandma 4 gallons of tomatoes when she was dying
so she could tell the nurses she would can them with her grandma.
He nodded out by her bedside every night until she passed.
He left everything to my cousins and I.
I don’t know why, except there was nobody else to leave things to.
I don’t know if he ever paid taxes but I’ll find out before probate.
His water bill was up to $900 before they shut it off.
I couldn’t guess what outfit he wants to wear in his casket.
I don’t know if he wants mahogany or cherry wood.
I don’t know what songs he’d like played.
I can’t help but feel the crushing weight of knowing someone
no one cared to know well.
Still, someone has to write an obituary.
2 thoughts on "Eulogy"
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Thanks for sharing this. As someone whose funeral no one will come to and whom no one has reciprocated relational investment, it means a lot to me to read such a piece. I’m sorry for your many losses in this situation. I hope the canning is going well. May something surprisingly comfort you and yours in this time.
Thanks for sharing this Madison. I was struck by the thought and care of it