E-Tips

The Eulogy

Sadly, there comes a time for all of us when we must mourn the passing of a loved one. Such a time came for our family this month with the death of my wife Mary's father, John A. McGlynn. My brother-in-law, Bill Scanlon, gave a eulogy of such power that the 200 or so people at the funeral were transfixed in the moment and could feel the presence of John McGlynn in the room.

For our tip this month, I want to share with you edited segments of what Bill said, then look at some ideas we can all use when it is our turn to stand and "say a few words."

A Eulogy for My Father-in-Law, John A. McGlynn *
by William J. Scanlon, February 2, 1999

"....Dad, I know your name is John. But I could not call you so. In the Irish way you know. "Respect for elders," we say.

You have not been merely an elder, although that would have been enough. No, you have been the tiger of the woods, the kindest and grandest too. Of a woods this city boy thought to be a great forest. And a forest surrounding what no one could imagine, who has not been blessed to experience it.

With love and laughter sprouting from the magnificent gardens, and bubbling from the spring, and wide eyes and squeals and hand-shakes, and talk of politics and church and Shakespeare and deer. Dancing, prancing and, yes, kissing too.

So Dad had to be your name, and Dad it will be always.

Dad, it saddens so, and frightens some, for me to be standing here speaking, while you are there silent.

All of your ten children, each in her or his own way, are lovers of life, explorers and pioneers, like you. You often have said of their nurturing that Mom, your deeply cherished Anna Marie, provided their anchor, and you, their wings.

Dad, differing with you is risky, I know. But to differ on this point I beg. We know Mom conspired with you in giving them wings. We know as well that you too were part of the mighty anchor, in storm after storm after storm. Not just the storm that burned the barn, and not only for your brood, but also for your brother Tom's children, and your whole community.

You loved literature and history and philosophy. Not surprisingly, then, you read and studied Shakespeare. We all know you loved to quote him. In looking for this thread for your quilt, it was amazing, and eerie almost, to find the following passage in "Romeo and Juliet," after having stared at the star-packed sky on the moonless, clear night that was my first at Glynnspring more than thirty years ago:

...when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.

Now, Dad, the stars are yours. And so, with sad and heavy hearts, we must bid you adieu. In the words of the ancient Irish prayer, as you travel on:

May the road always rise up to meet you,
And the wind always be at your back,
May the sun warm you by day,
And the moon and stars guide you by night,
Dad, be safe on your journey!

Worry not, as the rains will fall softly on Glynnspring. It will be tended with care and love, and, we know most importantly to you, so will Mom, your lovely bride.

Dad, until we meet again, by the grace of God, may He hold you in the palm of His hand.

We love you. Adieu!"

In just a few words, Bill Scanlon has captured the essence of a man, of a life. What did Bill do that we can all learn from?

1. He spoke directly to the deceased in open dialog.



2. His remarks were brief, less than five minutes.



3. He brought in the extended family, the children, and his wife, Anna Marie.



4. He recognized the sense of place that defined John's life, i.e. "Glynnspring," a nickname for the family farm in Wisconsin on which John was born and raised. He referenced the woods - some of the wilder places on that 160 acre farm.



5. He used the metaphor of wings and anchor - concepts well known to family members, and much loved family lore.



6. He addressed some of John's most endearing qualities: love of literature and philosophy, love of adventure, strength in adversity, and his Irish nature. Everyone in the church felt John's presence in this tapestry of his life.

Bill's ability to capture in a poetic way the essence of this patriarch's life helped all of us express and deal with our sadness and grief. When the sad occasion comes for you to deliver a eulogy, think back on how Bill Scanlon captured a life in a few well-chosen words. If you do the same, you will do a great favor for the mourners left behind.

* The eulogy is copyright 1999
WJS Copyright Trust for the Grandchildren of John A, McGlynn, Jr.