Eulogy Pt. 1

Today I started writing your eulogy, though you aren’t dead, or ill, or even old. I just wondered if you were to die tomorrow, what would I write? What would I say if they asked me to speak?

What if we wrote eulogies to each other all the time? What if we told each other what we meant to one another every day? What if I said what I felt about you whenever I thought it? Would we quickly turn saccharine – would it be too much to say to each others faces?

This is what I would say, if they asked me to speak. I would say that you were a father and a lover, and that you were loved. But then I would tell people about what you did for the world. I would say that you are one of the pillars of our culture, the kind that are only recognized for being influential twenty to fifty years later. You helped writers pay their rent in a time when the short story was relegated to stuffy literary magazines and small press print magazines you gave them a place where the rest of the world could hear them. You built an institution. You introduced artists to each other. You helped to usher in a new age of media.

Maybe you didn’t start the fire, but you sure did help it burn.