Good afternoon. My name is Len Leatherwood and I am Leslie’s younger sister. On behalf of my entire family, I’d like to thank you for coming today to help us celebrate Leslie’s life. We are all here because we loved her. So, thank you.
Leslie. How do I best describe her?
First, my sister had a great sense of humor. With that in mind, let me say that according to most studies, people’s number one fear is public speaking. Number two is death. So, given that statistic, I suspect Leslie is having a good laugh looking down and seeing me quaking in my boots right now. So, thanks, Sis.
All right, back to business. What is the best way to describe Leslie?
I could focus on my sister’s kindness, which was great. Anyone who knew Leslie is aware that she was a kind and gentle person. Or I could talk about her strength, which sent her into an overflowing storm drain to save our brother George from drowning when we were kids. Or, her perseverance, which propelled her to finish her Ph.D., while working full-time as a single mom with two kids. Then again, there is her athleticism, which caused her to be referred to as “the toughest boy on 13th Street” when we were growing up because she loved to play tackle football with the boys. And which kept her running, skiing, golfing earlier in her life and finally walking, walking, walking up until a few days before her untimely death. These are all parts of the Leslie I know and love. All parts, which make up a bigger picture, that’s harder to define.
My sister, even with her dementia, was sensitive. She knew how to read faces and emotions and could say, “Ah, you look a little sad today,” or “Oh, how beautiful you are.” Leslie had a gift of truly seeing you when you spoke to her. And as her dementia progressed and the filters came off, she also had a way of saying exactly what she thought. In the case of my husband and his voice, which gets louder and louder when he’s happy or excited, she’d turn to me and say, “Oh boy, here we go again!”
Leslie felt no need to be the center of attention. Instead, she liked to come into any room and blend in, settling back to observe and quietly participate in whatever was happening. She was comfortable with herself, and this quality made her very good at her work as a psychotherapist. One of the most poignant moments for me during those last days of Leslie’s life at St. Joseph’s Villa was when one of the nurses said, “Oh, yes, I know Leslie. I knew her before.” I didn’t understand until Kevin told me that because Leslie had been a psychologist working with the elderly, she had worked in all of the facilities where she would later come to live. The staff knew her “before,” when she was a fully functioning professional there to aid the residents. I found myself sad and happy at the same time knowing that information. These nurses knew my sister before dementia took her, and they all spoke of her deep compassion. How wonderful that they had a fuller picture of her.
Life has a way of shifting and changing in unexpected directions and Leslie’s life had several of these twists and turns. Who knew that a concussion from a bike accident was going to take such a toll? Who knew her scoliosis would twist her back and reduce her height by 4 inches? How could any of us have predicted that this woman who exercised every day of her life would be dead at 70, when so many other people suffering with dementia and Alzheimer’s live on for years? And yet, here we are, and she is free. Happy, I’m sure, since I said something about living to 100 a few years back and she said, “Oh Lord have mercy, I hope not.” She had not been free of pain in a while by that point. I expect she knew there would be more, not less as time passed.
So, what do I say about my sister? I can say without any doubt that she loved her children, grandchildren, and pets beyond measure. That she valued her family – in whatever configuration – above all else. That she was loyal, decent and kind, smart, well read, athletic and a risk-taker. She loved a good joke and she loved a big hug and she liked broccoli more than anyone else I’ve ever met. She also had a secret passion for sweets and loved to sneak them to my kids when they were little. Was she perfect? Far from it. Was she good? Absolutely. Will we miss her? Without a doubt. Is she happy now? I’d like to think so. And I can say that my life is better for her presence because of her enduring love, as well as the legacy that she has left in the form of her two fine children, Kevin and Jim, and her grandchildren, Eli and Sophie (and her beloved, Addie). I expect the rest of you feel the same way.
A minister told me once that death is healing and I can feel that here. Leslie is now whole and we are still healing as we hold her close in our hearts. Any time we hear someone happily whistling, I expect many of us will think of Leslie, who happened to be a whistler of the first order.
And since my sister loved a good laugh, it is only fitting that I include a few quips:
George Carlin liked to say, “I’m always relieved when someone is delivering a eulogy and I realize I’m listening to it.”
Garrison Keillor said, “They say such nice things about people at their funerals that it makes me sad to realize that I’m going to miss mine by just a few days.”
And Bob Monkhouse is quoted as saying, “I want to die like my father, peacefully in his sleep, not screaming and terrified, like his passengers.”
Hopefully, my bad jokes have made Leslie (and you) smile.
So because I know Leonard Cohen was one of Leslie’s favorite songwriters (as well as my own), I’d like to end with the chorus to his song, Anthem, which, lucky for you, I will not be singing. This is particularly fitting because the bells here at St. Mark’s Cathedral will ring 70 times in honor of Leslie’s life immediately following the service.
Ring the bells
The bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There’s a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in
Thank you for joining us today, and thank you for loving my sister.
20 Minutes a Day 
This is so beautifully expressed and poignant. I’m sure Leslie appreciated it, smiling and chuckling as you spoke. Thank you for sharing it.
Thanks so much! Yes, I expect she had a good laugh looking down.
Dear Cousin Len: You delivered a beautiful tribute to your dear sister, Leslie. I know that it was very lovingly written. I say a prayer for you and for Sam, as you two have now lost 4 siblings. I thank Our Lord for our Faith, which informs me that ‘this is not all there is’. We have the sure and certain hope that there is a time ahead of us where the circle will be unbroken. We are all on the same train, although some will have arrived earlier at the destination than some of us in the train cars a bit farther on back……..
Peace, sympathy, and always “love”, I send to you, from Suzanne
Thank you so much, Suzanne. That was beautifully said. I appreciate that visual of the train so much. Much love to you.
Gorgeous.
Ah, thanks, Chris. I appreciate that.
Hi, I stumbled upon this post via a google search. My father died on Friday and now I need to write and deliver the eulogy. It sounds like my Dad and your sister had a lot in common (sense of humor, many of their good qualities, dementia, and even their age was similar… my Dad was 71). My Dad would want two things with his eulogy: 1) delivered by me, and 2) for it to be lighthearted with a few laughs sprinkled in along the way. The problem with this is that I’m not funny at all! I’m actually quite serious 🙂 I enjoy a good laugh, but I’m not the one typically making people laugh. I was wondering how you would feel if I was to borrow the general outline/flow of what you wrote, along with some a few exact lines (for example, I loved your “Was she perfect? Far from it. Was she good? Absolutely. ” … I’d love to use this and then expand upon it with a personal example)? I’m sure asking to “copy” parts of someone else’s eulogy sounds terrible… but writing is not a strength of mine. If I was able to take yours as a guideline to start I think I’d be able to adapt it to my Dad no problem… and being able to do that would relieve a LOT of the stress with having to write this now. Maybe in the end it would end up being completely different – but before even using yours as a “starting point” I’d want to ask if that would be ok.
I think once I submit this comment you will have access to my email address… maybe you could email me directly? I’d be happy to share more that way.
No matter your response I want to say that your eulogy to your sister is absolutely beautiful and made me smile… I only hope whatever I put together for my Dad will end up being half this good!
Thanks for your consideration,
KT
Of course. I would be honored for you to use whatever you need. Best wishes to you and thanks for asking.
Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you! I already feel 10x’s better about starting on this now (which I have been putting off for 2 days because trying to figure out how to say what I want PLUS make it light & occasionally funny was just so stressful!). Thank-you 🙂
You are welcome! Less stress is great. Happy to help.
I too would like to use your outline. I also found it on a google search as I am writing an eulogy for my sister. I too am stressed out and not a good writer.
I am so sad I don’t know if I can deliver it without falling apart
Of course, please use it. I am so sorry for your loss. It’s hard to lose a sister. If you fall apart, don’t worry. Just take a breath and begin again.
Thank you for your generous sharing of this document. This had given me the lead in writing a tribute to my own sister. I had to stop several times as I am writing because of the feelings the words i wrote down evoked in me. My sister had developmental disabilities with speech impediment and limited cognitive level. She was loyal and kind and smart. We were two and a half years apart. In the train ride of this challenging life- i kind of feel like i was amiss in giving her the attention she would have welcomed. I went on to finish school, find a job, got married and have children. I financially supported my sister although I also had to take care of my own family. Whew, healing will take time. But i am grateful of my developing faith in the Lord and in the belief that life has a reason in being.
Thank you for letting me know, Niza, that my tribute to my sister has helped you write one to yours. I am deeply touched. It sounds as if healing has already started. May your sister rest in peace.
My little sister has just passed away, unexpectedly, and I would like to ‘borrow’ ideas from you for her eulogy. May I Please? Thank you.
Of course! I am so sorry for your loss. Borrow away. Len
My sister died suddenly at 66 last week two days after cancer diagnosis. I was searching for a eulogy and stumbled across yours. I know what to say but I was struggling with the structure which is as important as the words. If I may, I’d like to follow your expertise regarding the structure but obviously using my own words. Thank you for sharing and sorry for you loss. Life will never be the same again.
I am so sorry for your loss. It hurts so much to lose a beloved sister. Of course, feel free to use the structure of my eulogy. I would be honored. Best wishes to you.
Thank you
Beautiful. Your sister should be honored.
I know it has been a while since the passing of your sister. I have been honored with eulogizing my sister at a celebration of life service and have struggled with how to find the words that will honor her and how much she meant to me….my best friend. may I reference yours? It is beautiful. My sister too had dementia so I really lost her a long time ago. I just want to find the words…..
Of course, I would be honored Please accept my condolences on the loss of your sister. I know how hard that can be.