Let 'Er R.I.P.!

I've been putting this off, as I prefer to keep my thoughts to myself. Telling the world about my new sparkly dress is one thing; baring my soul is quite another. But in the interest of resembling a human being, rather than a chunk of wood, I'll overcome my qualms. Here we go, folks, hot off the press:

Gwen's Eulogy
(by Gwen)

I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful
So unloved for someone so fine
I can feel so boring for someone so interesting
So ignorant for someone of sound mind
(Alanis Morissette)

If Gwen could see all the lives she touched, she would be amazed. A deeply private woman, Gwen kept people at a distance, despite her longing for friendship. She didn't have many close friends, but those who were allowed to glimpse the genuine Gwen were close indeed. She knew that she underestimated the influence she had on people, but she struggled to understand what they saw in her. "I hate it that people think we've got it together," she'd say to her husband. "If they only knew how screwed up we are!" But she always laughed when she said this, and rolled her eyes, and shook her head ruefully.

Gwen loved to laugh.

She wanted to think for herself. She continuously challenged her own beliefs, in a desperate attempt to avoid mindless conformity. She called herself a Christian, but was religious only in her avoidance of cheesy, mainstream Christianity. Oh, she was aware that her shunning of the norm drew criticism, but she told me once, “I don’t care. I won't agree just for the sake of agreeing. The unexamined life is not worth living.”

She felt very smug when quoting Socrates.

Throughout her entire life, Gwen unsuccessfully waged a war against fat-back. She loved twinkle lights, Christmas trees and the ocean. She craved travel. Nachos, pickles and hummus each played a vital role in her life. She liked stand-up comedy and funny movies. She loved dinner parties and good wine. She liked nearly every genre of classical music, and understood more of it than she admitted. She loved to cook and bake. She kept a box of Kleenex in the car. She danced while doing housework, and turned the music up very loudly indeed.

Gwen was complicated. Impulsive. Extravagant. Reserved. Expressive. Highly contradictory. Of all things, she hated negativity and pessimism. She loved herself, and was perplexed at her own insecurities. Half of her longed to be accepted, and the other half thought, “Who cares what they think?”

She felt deeply loved by God, and valued.

As Gwen grew older, she became kinder, softer, gentler, more empathetic. She was slow to judge others. “There but for the grace of God go I,” she’d say. She learned not to expect perfection from others, and liked herself the better for it.

She often wished she hadn’t been such a prim prig when her grandparents were alive.

She prayed the same prayer every single day, like a mantra: “Whom have I in heaven but you? and earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion forever.”