the things I would have said.

I didn't write the eulogy, but if I had.....

I've thought about this for the last month since my uncle died. I've thought about which words I might use to talk about his life and his death, and about which stories I might tell that do the best job of telling the true story of who he was.

I've written and erased, and typed and deleted, before I realized that I was being completely ridiculous.

I was making entirely too difficult something which, in fact, is quite simple.

This is what I would have said:

He showed up.

As a friend he showed up, always ready to party like a rockstar. Or help you move. Or celebrate a Vikings win (or strategize for the next game, when they'll certainly win).

He showed up in his career, day after day. Project after project.

He showed up for his family. For his wife - for nearly 30 years, a marriage filled with love, laughter, grace... and some more laughter. I learned from him and Jackie what that looks like, and it's beautiful.

Wonderful stuff, right? A beautiful life... But we're all still waiting.

[here I would pause and look up and around the full-to-the-brim church]

These are all honorable ways to be remembered - but none of these descriptions quite capture how you will carry his memory do they?

I bet you will remember how he showed up for you when you needed him.

I'm guessing he showed up for you when you needed a friend. Or maybe he showed up to watch you play football, or to watch you cheer, or maybe a swim meet, or dance recital? That who he was - he showed up, usually with great energy, or a great idea, or just the right thing to say to shine light on a tricky situation.

Or maybe not.

Maybe he had empty arms and nothing to say. But you know what?

He still showed up - with a hug as big as his presence.

But you all know this already, that's why we're all here today. We are here today to show up for Dave, one last time, just like he has shown up for all of us.

I'm heartbroken that his life has ended. I'm sad for myself, and for Jackie, and for his children, and granddaughters, and all who loved him. At the end of the day, this church will be empty, we all are going to leave here today and be sad about saying goodbye to someone we love. We'll walk away, and grieve our grief, and live our lives. And time will pass and the sorrow will dull to a fine ache. But that's not the end. Not even a little bit. Every time we show up and are present for the people we love, he'll be there too. That is love, and love is eternal.

"Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is not separation." Rumi