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. This week's thanks for being here is from Sean Sherr. She says dear Kelly and staff

since hearing the spectacularly beautiful eulogy for Liz Lutz. I realized that I could easily listen

to remembrances of stranger's lives while desperately wanting to know more and crying as if those

people were equally dear to me. There is no limit to my ability to listen and feel. This capacity

is analogous to the delayed efforts and finishing my doctoral degree. The reason rather than writing

and analyzing my own data, I spend days and weeks reading the acknowledgement sections of other

dissertations. I wanted to know who they believed helped them cross the finish line. Some

expended great care and honoring loved ones friends and participants while others carelessly

listed the people they felt obliged to mention. Those few pages told me more about the author

than the research could ever convey. All of this to say I'm grateful for the newest addition to

your podcast. The title speaks to my heart. Thanks for being here is exactly the reason I believe

so many of us who lost loved ones during the pandemic suffered differently. My parents were

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