So your Dad died and today’s the funeral. You being the only son, everyone’s excited to hear your eulogy. They’ve all been talking all week about it, speculating as to what you might say. Some people think you’re going to talk about how your Dad taught you that hard work is what makes a man. Others are hoping you’ll throw a curveball and tell everyone that your Dad is a son of a bitch and he had a secret second family two towns over (and you’ll point to the family in the rear pews, and then you’d scream at the sky “Who do you think you are? You didn’t even have enough love to give for one family you son of a bitch!”).
Instead you’re going to tell them all that you never felt closer to your Dad than when you’d go down to the basement and lift weights with him. “My Daddy had really big arms and I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. I told him that, so he showed me how to lift weights to become a stronger man.” Then you go from talking about looking up to your Dad into a litany of bragging about what you can bench and how certain types of weight-gainers work better than others. It’ll be real shameless and boring, especially when you complain about how bad Mega-Mass tastes. In the end, you’ll announce that your bicep is the product of your Daddy. The strength in your arms is the strength of the influence your father had on your life. “You can’t get closer to my father than these arms,” you’ll tell the church. “Come get close to my Dad. Feel my muscle and say goodbye. Come on up.”
After a little more prodding, the mourners will rise from their pews and line up in the aisle like there’s going to be a second communion. They’ll move to the front of the church and one by one they’ll squeeze your bicep. Some of them will burst into tears when they squeeze. Others will give it a perfunctory tap and look at you with utter disappointment (these are your sisters and mother, BTW). A few others will squeeze your muscle, then they’ll hold up their arms for you to feel theirs, but you’ll tell them that today is about your Dad, not theirs. One or two ladies in the crowd will smile and tell you that your muscle is really big.
Finally, after everyone has come up and felt your muscle, you’ll look up at the sky and say, “I’m gonna stay strong for you Dad.” You’ll choke down some tears and say, “Today, I’m gonna channel all my grief over your and wail on my glutes.” You’ll be pretty sure that you hear a few people laughing when you finally return to your pew (these are your sisters and mother, BTW). Sorry about your Dad.
Happy A Eulogy Which Demands That Mourners Line Up To Feel Your Muscle Day!
