HOW TO WRITE A EULOGY

I’ve written my fair share of content over the years from books to brand videos to articles for major outlets. What I had never written before, until last week, was an entire funeral service.

When my wonderful mother passed away on September 23, one thing was clear: we would not be hiring a rabbi. While my father had hurriedly bought two connected plots in a Jewish cemetery during the final weeks of my mom’s life, that was about as religious as things were going to get. My mother was culturally Jewish, but she had no interest in prayers or talks of God. So, as my immediate family sat in the funeral home less than 24 hours after her not-at-all-peaceful death, it dawned on me that I would have to be the one to lead her funeral. And not just lead it but create the entire thing from scratch.

This decision didn’t come out of nowhere. I’ve been a performer since I could talk and the idea of listening to some stranger-for-hire talk about the most important woman in my life made my skin crawl. I owed it to myself and my mother to be the one up there. I just had to figure out what the hell I was going to say.

Long before my mom found out she’d contracted a rare and brutal disease she would often talk about her future funeral. She always wanted it to be a celebration of her life rather than a somber bummer of an affair. I tried to keep this in mind as I sent out a carefully worded funeral invitation to all our friends and family. After my father proof-read it several times in honor of my mother’s professional editor spirit, people received the following instructions regarding attire:

In Ruth’s honor, we ask that everyone dress more for an art opening than a traditional funeral. Feel free to wear whatever sparks joy and creativity, and if you want to add a pop of purple, her favorite color, we welcome it!

While the pop of purple was my idea, I quickly found myself wandering through the Westchester mall trying to remember what even constitutes purple as I fished through pinkish and blueish hues in confusion. My sister finally convinced me to buy an expensive hair scarf that was unquestionably in the purple family and something I could keep for years to come. I paired it with a gorgeous black dress with gold buttons. Another new purchase since when I packed for New York only seven weeks ago I had no idea I’d have to attend—let alone host—a funeral.

It's silly to admit how much it helped for me to have a nice outfit the day we laid my mother to rest. My mom was never one to wear tons of makeup and she absolutely hated putting on a dress. She did, however, take pride in her appearance. Knowing that I was wearing something she would not only have approved of but loved gave me a confidence boost. So much of these last two months have catapulted me into a new phase of adulthood whether I was ready for it or not. But something about wearing that timeless dress with a Prada scarf in my hair solidified that I officially looked the part of someone who was fully grown-up. And grown-ups can handle things like losing their wonderful mothers with grace.

Being a professional writer doesn’t provide you with the skills other professionals have like saving lives or building houses. But it did prepare me to write my mom’s entire service in one day. Following a brief discussion with my dad and sister, I made the somewhat unorthodox decision to incorporate comments from my mother’s fans all over the world between each speaker during the service. I saw it as a way to honor the vastness and international legacy of her impact.

Afterwards, people told me how much those comments meant to them, which is partly why I wanted to share my portions of her funeral service with all of you. My mother’s reach went far beyond those of us who had the privilege to know her personally.

I also wanted to share the below to show that we don’t have to follow any “rules” when it comes to honoring our loved ones. What is most important is keeping their spirit alive with the type of send-off they would appreciate whether that be religious or secular, somber or silly.

At least, that’s what I did my best to do. I don’t know if my mom was able to watch or feel my tribute to her, but if she was I really hope she laughed at my jokes.

*****

THE SERVICE:

Thank you all so much for coming. My mother always wanted her funeral to be a fun party and not a somber affair. But given the tragic nature of CJD and the fact that we lost her far too soon at only 69, I have a feeling today will end up being a mix of both.

For those who don’t know me, I’m Ruth’s youngest daughter Allison--in addition to being her doppelganger. I was always thankful I looked so much like my mom but now that she is gone, I feel extra special that I will still get to get a glimpse of her every time I look in the mirror. I hadn’t been planning to grow out my bangs, but now I know for sure I will keep them forever in her honor.

It is a tricky thing to try to sum up someone as rich and complex as my mom in a few heartfelt words, but I will simply do my best—which is all my mother ever asked of any of us.

I’ll start off by admitting that my mom was not a perfect person. She hated bell peppers with the zeal of fanatic trying to pass a universal ban. She refused to wear white after Labor Day even though she looked great in it, and no one cares about those rules anymore. And people could not make a spelling or grammatical mistake in her presence without being relentlessly mocked.

Okay. That’s the negative stuff. Now no one, especially my mother, can accuse me of being too biased. As someone with a master’s in journalism from NYU, she deeply valued a factual and nuanced approach to all topics. So now that I have roasted her a little bit, we can safely move on to gushing over her incredible personality and sense of style.

Ruth—never Ruthie—was a delightful mix of biting and compassionate. Her good friend Sandra recently shared with me that she felt honored to be her friend because my mom didn’t like most people. Not that you would be able to tell. She was warm and gracious to everyone in her orbit--even if she secretly couldn’t stand them.

One of the things I loved most about my mother is that her brand of kindness was a choice. She didn’t inherently want to do the right thing all the time. Instead, she would choose to do it anyway—even when it was hard and annoying. She showed me that being a good person isn’t something that has to come naturally for you to actively become one anyway.

While other people her age got stuck in their ways, my mother never stopped growing. She continued to pick up new hobbies, new opinions and new friends throughout her life. She was also rather exceptional at said hobbies, especially knitting.

By the way, if anyone is interested in purchasing one of my mother’s boutique level, custom-made sweaters that look like it would sell for $300 please contact me afterwards. I can maybe cut you a deal.

When I think about my mother, I immediately see her smile in my head. Despite a life that was too often littered with tragedy and hardship, my mother knew how to lean into joy. She had an incredible ability to find the humor in things. Even if that humor was occasionally very dark and a little twisted. Which is personally my favorite kind.

For example, a few weeks ago we were talking about the incompetent orthopedist she had seen in LA when her right elbow first started behaving bizarrely. The doctor couldn’t have been less curious about what we later figured out was actually a neurological issue and told my mom to just wait it out and come back to her in four to six weeks if her elbow hadn’t gotten better.  My mom, who by then was wheelchair bound and limited in her speech, joked that she should fly back to LA to visit the doctor and tell her, “Well I waited the four to six weeks and now I can’t walk or talk.”

Most people would have spent their remaining time on Earth furious to have contracted such a terrible and rare disease. But my mother never complained once. Instead, she kept apologizing to me because she knew how hard it would be to lose her. She didn’t want me to have to go through this tremendous loss.

I tried to tell her in her final days that she didn’t need to worry because she taught me how to be strong enough to handle it.

As has been true for the entirety of my life, I am only able to manage all of this because of her unwavering love for me. That love will carry me through the rest of my life as I do my best to continue her legacy of kindness, generosity and wit. I’ll also make sure I curse quite a bit as well.

While my mother lost so many people in her own family too soon including her parents and beloved older sister Joanne, I have been blown away by the family of friends she built for herself over the years. My mom was my favorite person and my best friend.

But, as I learned in the past few weeks, I am far from alone in that feeling.

So now I would like to invite a series of other speakers to come share their love for Ruth.

MY AUNT LISA SHARED A SPEECH

As many of you might know, my mom’s impact went far beyond people who met her personally. She was often featured on my social media and she was even a guest on the very popular podcast Terrible, Thanks For Asking. Through all of this, she gained a following of people touched by her humor and compassionate form of parenting. So, between each live speaker, I am going to share a note from one of her many fans from throughout the world.

This first comment was shared on a YouTube video featuring my mom’s best Just Between Us moments, of which there were many.

They wrote: 

My kid is disabled. When I start to feel like advocating is exhausting bc so many people don’t want to follow the law or do what they are supposed to do for her I honestly think of Ruth finding her baby laying down in the road and how she would do anything to figure out what was going on. It reminds me that there are parents who’ve been there before, this isn’t a new struggle. Then when I think of my kids future, I think of Ruth supporting Allison into adulthood in whatever way is necessary and it reminds me that interdependence can look different ways but it’s just part of having an awesome kid. I don’t have a mom who would do those things for me, so having an example, even though it’s parasocial, has made a big difference in my life, and therefore my kid’s life.

MY AUNT STACEY GAVE A SPEECH

This next comment was shared on my Just Between Us Patreon.

They wrote:

I don’t know how to fully explain it in words, but the depth of the love Allison and Ruth have for each other is very palpable, even through text/screen. I know I’ve felt it when Allison talks about her and in the small glimpses of Ruth we’ve been privileged enough to see. I believe the light of that love touches everything it comes in contact with, positively affecting those who are lucky enough to see or be around it, and those people then take that light and pass it on as they move through their own lives. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what lasts after we’re physically gone, and I believe the energy of that love is something that will continue to have an impact. I also feel that the things most important to us (values, morals, wisdom, etc.) pass along in a similar way, influencing those we come in contact with and allowing them to move through the world with that energy, passing it along indefinitely.

MY MOM’S FRIEND JUDY GAVE A SPEECH

This comment is from the YouTube video where I shared my mom’s CJD diagnosis.

They wrote:

Sometimes I go back and listen to the podcast with your momma bc my parents didn’t really show up for me during my mental illness as a kid. It’s nice to hear a mom validate and believe and care for their kid like that… and her healing you has come through with you healing us all these years. I met your mom in person once in nyc and she seems like a really bright and warm person. Life’s really hard sometimes but I hope it’s comforting to know she had a massive net positive on the world being herself and through her kids.

MY MOM’S FRIEND ROBIN GAVE A SPEECH

This is a comment from a reader on my Substack after I shared a post of some of the things I love most about my mom:

All of the bits of your mother we have gotten to experience over the years as viewers/listeners/readers have been such a beautiful gift - she is funny, she is poised, she is silly, she is confident. One thing that always sticks out to me is the immediate action she and your father took when you were a child. As someone who lost one amazing parent when I was small, and has an estranged relationship with my remaining parent, it felt foreign and confusing to see such a loving family unit in your parents. I hope that it brings you, your mother, and your whole family a small bit of comfort to know that there are strangers out in the world who will think of your mother and smile, laugh, or be awed by her bravery (bravery in the face of your diagnosis as a child, bravery in the face of her diagnosis now). Sending you all light and love.

MY BROTHER-IN-LAW, JOE, GAVE A SPEECH

This is an email I received from a fan in France a few days ago:

Dear Allison

I want you to know that you are loved beyond what you can imagine and that your mom’s story, character and strength has reached people all over the world on levels that are way beyond your knowledge.

I, like many other viewers, have gotten to know your mom through your content (she was unquestionably my favorite contestant of Heavy Or Light) and I think we can say that a lot of us have gotten to love her as well. When I learned the news about her disease, a little something broke inside of me and I am not exaggerating when I say I could not sleep for a week. There is not a single day since the end of August where I did not have a thought for you, your family and Ruth.

I cannot reasonably understand why CJD happened to your mom, but I find it reassuring to think that even the most unimaginable and brutal death cannot take away the fact that your mom has existed. Your mother’s death will never be able to erase every second that she lived, every fight she fought and all of the memories that people have of her. It is not cheesy to say that she will carry on living as long as you live because every moment she’s lived has shaped you and other people in many ways. She will forever be present and death cannot take this away from her and from you.

Please know that the pain you feel is shared by thousands all over the world who - even if you do not know us personally - root for you, love you and love your mom.

Grief will be a long process but I am absolutely confident that you will navigate through it with the grace and humor that your mom has transmitted you.

MY HUSBAND, JOHN, GAVE A SPEECH

This was another note from my Patreon.

They wrote:

Thank you for sharing your incredible mom with us for so many years. I wish I could change this outcome for you, and I’m so sorry for your loss. Hearing your mom talk about how much she loves you and you, talking about the unimaginable support she gave you throughout your childhood, changed how I view the world. She might not be my mother, but she gave the best mom advice I needed to hear, and likely others need to hear too. Thank you so much to Ruth for showing us all what unconditional and real, gentle love looks like.

MY SISTER, JOCELYN, GAVE A SPEECH

One final note to share from one of her many fans:

I just had my son last year. As I was entering parenthood I kept thinking back on your podcast interview with your mother. It’s been a while and I’m paraphrasing, but the spirit of what she said has stuck with me since I first listened.

You asked Ruth if she ever had to grieve for the life she thought you might have before your OCD diagnosis. She responded that she never pretended to know what life would bring, and so never had expectations for her children in that way. She showed up in parenthood for exactly the kids she had, for who they were and how they needed her. Something about her response struck me as such a beautiful way to be present for your children, and to be the best parent you could be.

I hope you can find some peace in knowing your mom will live on, not just in your family but in the strangers she inspired.

And finally, I’d love to invite the person who was actually my mother’s best friend and her partner in life and laughter, my father.

MY FATHER GAVE A SPEECH

Thank you all so much for being here. We are now going to begin the process of heading to the cemetery for the burial. Please feel free to join us there in the processional or meet us back at my parents’ house later on. All the information and addresses are in the email you received a few days ago. But before I turn this over to the funeral home to give you more information, I just want to end this part of the day with one final tribute to my mom.

One of her favorite lyrics is from Rod Stewart’s song You Wear It Well.

The line goes: So when the sun goes low and you're home all alone, think of me and try not to laugh.

I’ll try mom, but I can’t promise anything.

You were very funny.

****

THE BURIAL

Following the service at the funeral home, some of the mourners drove to the cemetery for the burial.

There, I read the following:

My mother was not a religious person. But she was a hilarious and light-hearted one. She never took herself too seriously so it seems only fitting that the two readings we will be sharing at her burial aren’t too serious either.

My husband, John, will be reading the poem, PARDON ME FOR NOT GETTING UP by Kelly Roper. I’ll confess that the only reason my mother wasn’t an English major in college is because she didn’t want to take a poetry class. But hopefully she’d appreciate this one.

Pardon Me For Not Getting Up

Oh dear, if you’re reading this right now,

I must have given up the ghost.

I hope you can forgive me for being

Such a stiff and unwelcoming host.

Just talk amongst yourself my friends,

And share a toast or two.

For I am sure you will remember well

How I loved to drink with you.

Don’t worry about mourning me,

I was never easy to offend.

Feel free to share a story at my expense

And we’ll have a good laugh at the end.

****My sister then read a more traditional and lovely poem in-between the two not-so-serious readings I selected.****

And finally, I’d like to share the song:

Keg on My Coffin - by The Push Star

Put the keg on my coffin

And think of me every so often

Have a losers day parade for all my friends

Drink up life like a river

'Til the pizza man delivers

And smile and know I loved you 'til the end

Here's what you do when my time comes to pass

Charlie told me through the reflection in his glass

Don't waste time praying

'Cause I'm never coming back

Just throw a party in my name

Put the keg on my coffin

And think of me every so often

Have a losers day parade for all my friends

Drink up life like a river

'Til the pizza man delivers

And smile and know I loved you 'til the end

Here's what to write on the stone over my grave

His friends were earned and not a penny saved

Don't waste time crying

'Cause you too are on your way

To meet me at the pawn shop in the sky

Put the keg on my coffin

And think of me every so often

Have a losers day parade for all my friends

Drink up life like a river

'Til the pizza man delivers

And smile and know I loved you 'til the end

***My sister then shared the following explanation of the one Jewish custom my mom would have wanted because it is so beautiful and moving.***

A Jewish tradition is for each mourner to place three shovelfuls of dirt onto the grave as a way to honor and show respect for the deceased. The shovel is held so that the back of the shovel faces upward, to show that it is being used for a purpose that's the opposite of life and that it also takes time, showing our reluctance to burying a loved one.

The day of my mother’s funeral was the first major life event I’ve ever had without her.

But whether she believed in anything after this version of life, I certainty do, which brings me some peace. After all, she brought bad weather everywhere she went and it rained that day. Seemed fitting given the size of our loss and her love of umbrellas.

xoxo,

Allison

P.S. To honor my mother’s spirit of generosity and her adamant belief in science, we are raising money to help find a cure for CJD. You can contribute here. Any and all donations are greatly appreciated.

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