Love Check: Eric's Eulogy for Susan

I delivered a eulogy for Susan in Graham, Washington on Saturday, August 4th 2001 and then on the following Saturday, August 11th, in Panama City Florida.  The eulogies are mostly the same, though I've pasted them both one after each other.

Graham, Washington

So we're here today to honor the memory of Susan Elaine Preston Richards.

She was born on January 21st, 1969 and left us on July 27th, 2001.

There's not enough time and not enough words to properly eulogize Susan's short time with us.

She was the love of my life.

Her time with me is a gift I'll cherish forever.

She made me be a better person, gave me purpose and pride, and brought into my life all such wonderful, warm people.

I'm a far better person for knowing & loving her.

We met at Auburn in a math class: vector calculus, of all things.

I was a long haired, angst ridden, Northwest-bound-hipster, and she was a lovely woman with a smile that captured your heart.

She was also was a lot more brighter and determined than I was with respect to us getting together. She had to be determined because of an opal ring she wore on her ring finger. I thought that meant something so I was hands off. It was just a ring she wore and she would constantly tell the story of how she had to go after me because of my misunderstanding about that ring.

Well, she got me and after she captured my heart, she captured my soul and my love forever. She was my anchor.

Oh, we had our rocky times. Something about "communication" kept coming up again and again. But her loving determination was always there, and we hit our stride and were committed to one another. To the end.

For our rough times, she came up with “Love Check” - something we'd call out when we felt something was going wrong between us and we had to take a moment to re-affirm, “I love you," "I love you, too."

We used this promptly upon beginning our honeymoon.

She loved animals. Over the years, we reached population peaks of four cats, four dogs, four sheep, two goats, four ostriches, a small herd of visiting cows, and a llama. And I'm sure there was going to be no end to it.

But that's okay, because she did a wonderful job at caring for those animals.

I find the most comfort now in accepting how completely happy she was in Graham. She would constantly remind me "I love it here," and how much she appreciated the sacrifices I made for my commute.

And rather than perfume and pearls, she would much rather be given cobb and five-foot no-climb.

It's our time here since 1998 that I feel was Susan's reward for a lot of crap life ended up dealing her.

"Life is suffering," said Buddha. I don't know of Susan would much care for me bringing up the Buddha right now but Susan certainly had to suffer more than her share in life.

And since we loved her so much, her suffering was so very much our suffering.

There's a movie that Susan and I once watched, and then watched a lot once she was recovering at UW, called Return to Me. One scene that brought a tear to my eye is when a grandfather comforts his granddaughter, a lady dealing with her own health and recovery, and says something along the lines of "God gives the greatest challenges to those with the character to withstand them."

For what Susan suffered, she certainly set an example for us.

When her condition suddenly worsened this year and she was dealt with such a major impairment to her life, she never complained. Never. She worked hard to get her strength back and to come back home.

An endearing image in my mind will always be her slow, proud smile when she got enough strength back to stand on her own again.

I was so proud of her. Everyday.

She lives on forever in our memories and in the animals she loved. Beau and Bella are Great Pyrenees Mountain Dogs and practically the center of Susan's lifework.

For my own sake, I'm glad that Susan never had to choose between me and the dogs.

Bella's pups and grand-pups carry on Susan's work, as do the two lambs Susan was there for when they came into this world.

I'd have to say bringing those two lambs into this world was the climax for everything that was now important to her.

She managed our house and little farm like nobody's business, constantly filling graph paper pads with designs for decks, and barns and fencing (her "manifestos" I'd tease her).

Fortunately, she had skilled folks like Spike and Frank to realize all her designs.

I'm thankful she was in my life, and gave her love to me. I wasn't worthy of her. I'm grateful to come to know all of you because of her and I feel that she'll be a bond between us forever.

She will always be an inspiration to me and will forever be in my heart. For this, I can never say goodbye. Just simply, "I miss you."

And for those of you out there who are waiting to be reunited with loved ones on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge, you had best bet that Susan is visiting there daily: keeping all those Pyrs in line, loving & brushing them, and waiting to greet us with a smile that lights the heavens.

(Other eulogies… )

To close, I have to say how much I appreciate everyone who sent cards, helped and volunteered to help Susan.

It was a constant reminder of how much she meant to everyone and how much we loved her. It certainly helped me survive through all this, and to go on.

Susan's parents and my parents went beyond the call of duty supporting both Susan and I.

Family and friends were what mattered most to Susan.

I know she'd be proud at how all of us rallied to her aid and supported one another.

Thanks.

Panama City, Florida

There's not enough time and not enough words to properly eulogize Susan's short time with us.

She was the love of my life.

Her time with me is a gift I'll cherish forever.

She made me be a better person, gave me purpose and pride, and brought into my life all such wonderful, warm people.

I'm a far better person for knowing & loving her.

We met at Auburn in a math class: vector calculus, of all things.

I was a long haired, angst ridden, Northwest-bound-hipster, and she was a lovely woman with a smile that captured your heart.

She was also was a lot more brighter and determined than I was with respect to us getting together. She had to be determined because of an opal ring she wore on her ring finger. I thought that meant something so I was hands off. It was just a ring she wore and she would constantly tell the story of how she had to go after me because of my misunderstanding about that ring.

Well, she got me and after she captured my heart, she captured my soul and my love forever. She was my anchor.

Oh, we had our rocky times. Something about "communication" kept coming up again and again. But her loving determination was always there, and we hit our stride and were committed to one another. To the end.

For our rough times, she came up with “Love Check” - something we'd call out when we felt something was going wrong between us and we had to take a moment to re-affirm, “I love you," "I love you, too."

We used this promptly upon beginning our honeymoon. Sometimes it was used with a laugh, sometimes with gritted teeth, and sometimes with choked tears. But it certainly served as the glue to keep us together.

Susan loved animals. Over the years, we reached population peaks of four cats, four dogs, four sheep, two goats, four ostriches, a small herd of visiting cows, and a llama. And I'm sure there was going to be no end to it.

But that's okay, because she did a wonderful job at caring for those animals.

I find the most comfort now in accepting how completely happy she was in Graham. She would constantly remind me "I love it here," and how much she appreciated the sacrifices I made for my commute.

And rather than perfume and pearls, she would much rather be given cobb feed and five-foot no-climb fencing.

It's our time in Graham since 1998 that I feel was Susan's reward for a lot of crap life ended up dealing her.

"Life is suffering," said Buddha. I don't know of Susan would much care for me bringing up the Buddha right now but Susan certainly had to suffer more than her share in life.

And since we loved her so much, her suffering was so very much our suffering.

There's a movie that Susan and I once watched, and then watched a lot once she was recovering at UW, called Return to Me. One scene that brought a tear to my eye is when a grandfather comforts his granddaughter, a lady dealing with her own health and recovery, and says something along the lines of "God gives the greatest challenges to those with the character to withstand them."

For what Susan suffered, she certainly set an example for us.

When her condition suddenly worsened this year and she was dealt with such a major impairment to her life, she never complained. Never. She worked hard to get her strength back and to come back home.

An endearing image in my mind will always be her slow, proud smile when she got enough strength back to stand on her own again.

I was so proud of her. Everyday.

She lives on forever in our memories and in the animals she loved. Beau and Bella are Great Pyrenees Mountain Dogs and practically the center of Susan's lifework.

For my own sake, I'm glad that Susan never had to choose between me and the dogs.

Bella's pups and grand-pups carry on Susan's work, as do the two lambs Susan was there for when they came into this world.

I'd have to say bringing those two lambs into this world was the climax for everything that was now important to her.

She managed our house and little farm like nobody's business, constantly filling graph paper pads with designs for decks, and barns and fencing (her "manifestos" I'd tease her).

Fortunately, she had skilled folks like our neighbor Spike Scharpf and good friend Frank Liles to realize all her designs.

I'm thankful she was in my life, and gave her love to me. I wasn't worthy of her. I'm grateful to come to know all of you because of her and I feel that she'll be a bond between us forever. For those of you involved in Susan's life as she grew into the sweet woman I married: Thank you. Because of you I spent time with the most wondrous woman I'll ever know.

I have to say how much I appreciate everyone who sent cards, helped and volunteered to help Susan.

It was a constant reminder of how much she meant to everyone and how much we loved her. It certainly helped me survive through all this, and to go on.

Susan's parents and my parents went beyond the call of duty supporting both Susan and I.

Family and friends were what mattered most to Susan.

I know she'd be proud at how all of us rallied to her aid and supported one another.

She will always be an inspiration to me and will forever be in my heart. For this, I can never say goodbye. Just simply, "I miss you."

Last update: 10/01/2001