Justin's Eulogy to Nana

There are only a few people here today, and I think that's one of the reasons that all of us here hurt so much now. Not because we feel that there should be more people here to remember her, but rather because we were the lucky ones that got all of her undivided attention and love, and now we have to find a way to live without it. Everyone here knows what it felt like to talk with her and see her smile at us and feel her love, and that ties us all together in a very unique way. You're the only people who truly understand what a tremendous loss this is, and for that reason, I'm glad to be here with you.

There are so many things that I'll miss about Nana, that I don't even know where to begin. I remember when I was younger; all week long I'd look forward to the weekend. The weekend meant no school, but mostly, it meant that I got to spend the night in Nana's room and stay up late watching Johnny Carson with her. One night Johnny said, "…And a tragic bit of news…the inventor of the first boomerang grenade died today." We laughed for five minutes straight…I couldn't think of anywhere else I'd rather be.

My family has always enjoyed taking exciting vacations, like hiking the steep mountains of Yosemite, or shooting down black diamonds at Mammoth. We'd always try to bring home one special picture just for Nana, of one of us in an extremely perilous situation. We called it the "Oh my" shot, because we knew that's the response we'd get from her when she saw it. I guess we always knew how much she cared about us when we did that. Whenever I told her I was headed off to the beach or out skating, she'd always give me a million reasons why I shouldn't go right now. She'd grill me, "Is someone going with you?" "Are you wearing a helmet?" "The weather guys are saying the ocean's dangerous today." It was truly annoying. And this wasn't just when I was a kid, this was last week. Sometimes I thought, "maybe I won't tell her when I'm going out to do something that's even mildly dangerous." But part of me loved making her worry. I guess now I know that part of me loved hearing her worry about me. As much as her list of cautions should've made me worry, I think I almost felt safer…how could anything happen to me when somebody cares about me that much.

There were so many days that Nana made me feel better about the world, from her deep caring, to her great sense of humor. But I can remember one particular moment where she really shaped my attitude about life, and she wasn't even in the room. A friend and I were philosophizing about people and love and selfishness. He argued that there's no such thing as a truly selfless act…every action carries with it at least a little bit of selfishness. And for a second, he almost had me convinced. So I searched my mind, to see if I could think of one moment where a person in my life had demonstrated such complete and earnest care for me that there wasn't a drop of concern left for themselves.

And I thought of Nana.

And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this level of selflessness wasn't just a moment for her…it was her entire way of life. That got me thinking a little more. In a world where we see so many dark things everyday, I had found something that was totally untainted by evil. There was not a single drop of bad blood in her body. There was no ill will, there was no animosity or anger towards anyone. She was good, through and through. To me, that's what made her so special. She was a living reminder to me that not everything has a downside, or a catch, or an ulterior motive. I'll live my whole life, and I doubt I'll find anything that pure and perfect again…that's what makes this loss so great.

I can't end this like that, because that's a bit of a downer, so I think I'll just briefly say what I'm happy about. I'm happy that I got to meet my grandmother. I've been able to know three out of four of my grandparents, and I haven't been let down yet. I'm happy that Nana got to live to be 90 years old. After all, we all have to go sometime, so I guess she did about as good as you can do. I'm glad that Nana got to live with us. So many elder parents end up going to a "home" and that wouldn't have been the right place for her to go. She loved her family, and we loved her. She really was young at heart and she fit in with us better than she would have somewhere else. I'll miss her laughter and I'll miss her smile, and well, I'll miss pretty much everything about her. The memories that I have of her are really hurting me right now, but I'm so glad I have them, and I'll never forget what an amazing person she was and how great she made my life.