Welcome to thanks for being here. Very short pod that comes out every Sunday morning as

Sundays are such a good time to let go of the day to day and touch base with what matters,

what will matter and what will have mattered. The answer to that question for me is often

found in ceremonies I could watch strangers get married once a week and I'm even more affected

by funerals. Sitting in a service, taking in the story of one life, just another ordinary

person who they loved and who loved them. In a way, eulogies are about the most succinct

source of clarity and direction I can think of. So I ask listeners who have lost someone dear

to share their words and every week I'll read one eulogy here so that we don't forget

there is a point to the pain. We have much to offer. We affect each other deeply and that ordinary

lives are really kind of exquisite when you look at them closely. This is thanks for being here.

Hi guys, welcome to thanks for being here. It's our time to reflect each week on what makes a life

memorable and meaningful and I must say that for all of us who have been working on this feed,

it has been really rewarding and sometimes strangely relevant. So thank you very much for

continuing to share your eulogies of the people you love so much. This week we're sharing Lisa's

eulogy for her beloved cousin who died last fall. My dearest Robbie, my first best friend,

my co-conspirator, my son's godfather, my baby cousin, my north star, my person. Metaphorically,

I think our lives are like a tapestry where each thread is the story of our life or a mosaic where

each piece of glass captures the moments. I keep trying to imagine what the picture of your life

would look like, but our lives are actually defined by the people we love, the moments we create,

the love that we share. So here we are, a collection of the people that made up your precious

and magical life, gathered to do the impossible task of mourning the inconceivable loss of you.

In July, our family spent a week together at the beach. I told you about a beautiful memorial

...