Eulogy for a friend

 My dear friend, Tim Hendrix, passed in July 2023. He was a week shy of being 59 years old. His illness was long, terrifying, vicious and unrelenting. It was incredibly hard to watch his dreams die. This is my eulogy to be presented on 9/23/24.

Welcome and thank you for being here today. Your presence and witness not only honor Tim, but are a balm, support and accompaniment to the grief of everyone in this room. I recognize Tim’s family, the many friends who served as Tim’s family during his illness, and especially Tim’s partner and fiancé, Mahmod Eslami, who joins us via livestream from Italy.

 

My name is Amber. I am a friend of Tim’s. We met in the hallway outside this room more than 20 years ago. We shared meals, laughter, sadness, a love of fashion, and most enjoyably, we shared in making music together in this room. He lovingly watched my daughter grow up, encouraged her, wrote glowing reference letters for her, and performed her wedding ceremony. Tim was family.

 

If I asked you to raise your hand if you were also Tim’s friend, I expect all of you would raise your hands. If I asked you to raise your hand if you thought of Tim as a very close friend, almost all of you would raise your hand.

 

Tim had an enviable gift; a gift of making friends and being a friend.

 

When Tim asked me to be his partner on his medical journey, I began attending many office and hospital visits with him. Each place we went, Tim started making friends. The second time we visited an office, the staff knew him by name and greeted him with a smile.

 

I started paying close attention to how Tim effortlessly did this. He started by really seeing a person. He acknowledged them personally. He accepted them for who they presented themselves to be. He was honest with them. He remembered them whenever we returned. He encouraged them when they shared with him.

 

As a friend of Tim’s, I expect you experienced much the same as the people who provided Tim’s medical care.

 

Tim met us where we were and saw us for who we are. He didn’t ask us to be anything less or more.

 

Tim joined in our sorrows, our triumphs, and in our indomitable task of day-to-day living in this world.

 

Tim saw us; he accepted us; he loved us.

 

Tim, like all of us, had his faults. But I think his primary motivation was seated in love. Accepting people where they are requires an act of lovingkindness. Truly seeing people requires a deep understanding of the human condition. Loving others requires giving of yourself.

 

One time in the hospital, we asked him if he wanted anything. He was suffering greatly and coming to terms with his terminal condition. His reply in the midst of this was, “I just want everyone to love everyone else.”

 

PEPPER STARTS PLAYING “ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE”

 

As a friend of Tim’s, he saw your melody and offered a harmony as he shared your lives.

He accompanied us in the major keys of our joys and the minor keys of our sorrows.

When we needed encouragement, he provided a supportive rhythm to help us keep moving forward.

Tim helped us sing our songs. We loved him for that.

 

PEPPER LEADS CONGREGATION IN SINGING CHORUS