ColvenComp1ExampleOfEulogy

1. This is indeed a sad day for all of us. We have lost such a great person. I think sharing our grief would help us ease our burdens.

My brother may have meant something to each and every one of you, personally, he was my guardian angel. I remember when we were in school he often got into fights because of me. People used to tease me and he didn’t want to see me get hurt so he tried to protect me. He is also the only person I could confide in. I could talk to him about anything because he never judged or scolded me. He always has some great advice ready for me. He had this trait where he could always turn a dull party around. My brother was such a character. He knew how to be serious at times and he also knew when to [|joke]  around. As a friend he was also very dear. He always found time to be with his friends. He was a very loyal and kind friend. He was also very polite; he was the kind of man who always opened doors for ladies. He could be very immature at times but that’s just because he was still a child inside a young man’s body.

I know my brother left lots of things undone and others that he never had a chance to start. But I promise I will continue what he has started and hopefully fulfill his [|dreams]  for him. This is just my small way of saying thank you for everything he did for me.

I remember our last talk together, we talked about death and how our funerals should be. My brother didn’t like to see people cry, especially his family. We only talked about this as a joke and now I realize why he mentioned it. He told me he wanted to have rides at his funeral or anything that would make people happy. I jokingly answered him that I could easily arrange for it but I’d have to face mom’s wrath. He just answered “that’ll no longer be my problem”. That talk happened just last month.

Let’s just be thankful for all the special moments that my brother has left us. And with that, I hope that my brother will continue to live on within our hearts and minds.  2. I want to thank you all for being here with me today. Sam was my older brother and also my only surviving family member. Sam and I lost our parents and two sisters in a car crash about ten years ago. As you mostly know, before the crash, Sam and I were close, but not that close. We always celebrated holidays together and of course we talked from time to time between holiday events. But that all changed when we lost the rest our family that summer ten years ago.

Sam and I soon found that moving back into our parents home was a way to somehow keep our family together. For the past 9 years Sam and I lived in our parents home, and became much closer than we ever had during our childhood or our early adult years. And I do not know how I will keep going to that house without Sam there. I will miss him very much.

As most of you know, Sam was a very quiet person. He never liked to have anyone's attention focused on him. He was humble and kind, but for all his quiet and humble ways, he was one of the most action-packed accomplishers I have ever known. Sam never tired. I don't think he slept much. Especially when you realize how much he accomplished in such a little time.

It is still hard to believe that somebody who had as much energy as Sam did can be gone now. In so many ways, Sam was immortal to me. When I think of Sam, I always think of infinite existence. He was so creative, so brilliant and so alive - but quietly so. He did not need fame or fortune or recognition to know that what he was embarked upon was a good thing. He just knew.

For many of you who have been to the house, you know what I mean. When Sam became interested in oil painting, one of the bedrooms was quietly converted to his art studio. He would paint for hours upon end. Usually only eating if I brought him food. And as you know, his art was incredible. But he never showed it. I know some of you were given paintings by him as gifts. He knew you liked them, so they were yours. Treasure those paintings now.

Again, when Sam realized that our world was the information age. Silently and without offense the house had another bedroom converted to an office. And of course in no time at all, that office was filled with computer equipment and a work bench where computer parts and machines were all in various stages of building. Soon a bookshelf filled with reference manuals graced the room. It was not too long after that, Sam a brilliant architect with a very good career, was hanging certifications from Microsoft on his walls. You know, he just tacked them to the wall with a thumbtack. I was the one who put more reverence to them by getting them properly matted and framed.

And so it went with Sam. He was just a brilliant, quiet genius who could do anything that he chose.

Yet he was also there for his friends. I know there were so many times when each one of you found solace in Sam's advice or friendship or warm gentle ways. And he was the kind of person who didn't force his ideas or thoughts on you. He just listened and made his own comment about the situation. If you chose to do something about it. That was up to you.

The house is truly empty now. I am the only survivor of the Hendricks Family. I will do my best to carry the spirits of my family - and most especially, Sam - forward every day. Honor and love him too - carry his spirit with you.

When you think of Sam, think still of immortality and infinity because to me, even though he died at the age of 38, he is infinitely immortal.



3. Steven and I met in Mr. Rollins’ third grade class. I’d like to say we became friends immediately but, actually, I thought Steven was quite the teacher’s pet so I ignored him. Of course, that studiousness and his ability to make friends with the “right” people is probably why Steven ended up as the owner of his own successful company. I came to appreciate Steven’s finer qualities and what I came to know eventually is that it was all real. Steven did not have an inauthentic bone in his body. Steven stood up for people. Something happened in the seventh grade that I will never forget and is a perfect example of the kind of person Steven was. My brother, Eli, was two years younger than we were. There was a time when walking to school past Water Street became quite a challenge for many of us. A gang of fellows gathered in front of a garage there and, when they were so inclined, they would drag one of us into their group and torment us. Most of us would escape eventually with a scraped knee or a missing lunch. Eli and I walked together and usually when there was more than one, the hooligans wouldn’t bother us. But one day I was sick and Eli had to walk by himself. He did not make it past the corner. Eli was grabbed and dragged to the center of their circle. You can imagine what happened after that. They pulled his backpack off him and pushed him down. Then Steven came along. Years later Eli told me that even though Steven was the smallest kid in our class, he just walked right into the group and pulled him up off the pavement. He grabbed Eli’s backpack and handed it back to him. “Go on,” he told him. Eli scurried out of the group and looked back in time to see Steven taking his first punch. I remember the next day Steven was pretty banged up with a black eye. I asked him what happened and he just said, “Nothin’…you know, Water Street”. That’s how Steven was, always strong, always humble. As you know, Steven has been endlessly generous with our community through his charitable endeavors and with all of us who have been fortunate enough to call ourselves his friends. Steven, you are gone too soon and you will be missed.