Eulogy

On Saturday we had Evie's memorial service.  Thank you to all those who were able to join us in person or in spirit. . . we have been so touched and so blessed to have so many walking beside us on this journey.  During the service, Kabir played two beautiful pieces on piano: "Time" by Hans Zimmer, and "Comptine D'un Autre Été: L'après Midi" by Yann Tiersen.  The second was one he often recorded and played for Evie in her room.  Also at the service, my sister Valerie read a lovely poem called "Little Snowdrop" and my mom read a book called The Next Place by Warren Hanson.  Last, several dear friends and family spoke about Evie and loss and love.  Here is the eulogy I read for our baby:

Here we are at the funeral for our newborn daughter . . . So why does this day feel so okay to me?  I think it’s okay because Evie was a very small person with a very big struggle, and now that struggle is done.  Over these weeks I’ve spent a lot of time trying to separate what was Evie, and what was her illness, and I’ll tell you it was pretty hard to do.  Much of the time Evie was far, far away from that strange and sick body.  But every once in a while she would pop in, and I looked in her eyes, and I saw her soul.   

Sometimes I would sit around in the hospital and wonder- why?  I mean WHY?!  I’ve now started to see how her life and her suffering and our suffering and her dying is affecting so many people . . . For me, one thing that changed was my idea of motherhood.  I remember learning about Evie’s brain damage and being so scared about having a disabled child.   Then, when it seemed she might just die, I realized my fears had been so misguided!  Being a mother means loving your baby no matter how they might be different from the idea you had for them.  Evie has also made me think about my relationship with death.  Death can mean terror and dread and pain and loss.  But now I know that death can mean love and peace and even hope.   I can tell you that Evie’s death was beautiful, and Kabir and I feel blessed to be part of it.   I definitely don’t know what I believe happens to us when we die, but when I watched Evie die I knew it was okay.  She was so peaceful and free.

I wonder how Evie’s short life will continue to affect us all in the months and years to come . . . We love you and miss you, little Evie, and we’re grateful for the things you are teaching us.

Here is a quilt made by friends and family for Evie.
This was presented to me on Mother's Day, before we knew Evie would not last.
It brought many tears and warmed our hearts!  We displayed it at Evie's service.