After some deliberation I decided to post the eulogy that I wrote and I gave yesterday. This poured out of me on Thursday morning at 4 AM. I actually wrote it on my iPhone while in bed- first the end, then the middle, then the beginning. It's the easiest thing I've ever written. My wife was a writer, and I think she helped me. Here it is:
Thank you all for being here to honor Hedy.
Hedy and I met when she was turning 16 and I was 18. She was still “Heather” back then. When I first saw her I distinctly remember thinking that she was the prettiest girl I had ever seen, and somehow I built up the courage to almost tell her that.
We had a torrid love affair for three weeks in 1991 until I went off to college in Washington, DC. That meant that we would see each other and make out every day. I still remember how much I looked forward to seeing her.
Shortly after I left for school she broke up with me. She was smart enough to know that a long distance relationship would not work. Of course, she broke my heart. "Who am I going to marry now?” my 18 year old self freaked out about. I was crushed because I loved her so much even then.
Five years later I thought I was OK on my own. I was backpacking around Europe and I called my mother from Amsterdam to see how she was doing. She was receiving chemotherapy for breast cancer, which thankfully she beat.
"Guess who the nurse administering my chemo is," my mother said.
"Who?" I asked
"Heather's mom."
I think I said, "wow."
My mother went on to say that Heather’s mom Lisa said that Heather had just moved back from New York. She heard I was moving back too and she would love to see me when I got back in a couple weeks.
"Hmmm.", I thought. And for the first time in five years I heard Heather's name and didn't feel a twinge of sadness. Somehow I had overcome my heartbreak and wanted to see her again.
Of course there was a letter waiting for me when I got back to Rhode Island. And of course it was an extremely long letter touching on many, many topics. The bottom line was she asked me to call her. So I called. And then I saw her a few days later. And it was all over. We were hooked.
I remember writing then that we were so different but we fit so well that it was perfect. I have always felt that way.
We had each gone our own ways for five years and then we came back to Rhode Island and each other at just the right time. It took my mother getting cancer for us to reconnect.
I'm not a big believer in fate, but still...
After that is when things picked up. Within 14 months of getting her letter and learning that Heather had become Hedy we started dating, got engaged, got married, and had Ruby. Hedy had just turned 22. I was 24. 1997 was a big year.
And we were off. We were growing up together. We made a silent agreement never do things the easy way.
From the beginning, Hedy aimed for the stars. She did not settle, she did not let me settle, and god help you if anything you did might contribute to not making our kids the absolute best people they could be.
Mediocrity was not OK with Hedy. Ever. Better to be ****ty than average.
Hedy was a different kind of person. There was no ego with Hedy. She did things for their own sake. She lived inside her emotions. Everything deserved a feeling. She lived and felt things with an intensity that you could almost touch. There was very little middle ground with her.
Hedy was smart and naive.
She was experienced and innocent.
Tough and sweet.
Strong and sensitive.
Compassionate and driven.
She loved dogs… and was terrified of dogs.
She was shy and had a million lifelong friends.
She loved writing and hated adverbs.
She was funny and as irreverent as hell. She loved modern dance and Scandinavian furniture design and the Cleveland Show and Arrested Development. She could swear like a champ. She once wrote a story called something like “I Think My Husband’s Jokes Are Funny When We’re Drinking”. And thank god for that. She liked my inner idiot.
She was really, really smart. She always knew exactly what was going on.
What Hedy never was is boring. Things were not half assed. They were whole assed. Life with Hedy was an adventure. From living in a crappy apartment above meth heads in West Warwick to traveling the world and living in Asia, we never slowed down. Hedy pushed us to do more and more and to always do better. She guided us on amazing vacations. And for every fancy resort we went to, there was a local orphanage that we would stop and visit and donate things that Hedy bought. I took credit for being so well traveled and compassionate, but Hedy did it all. She was our driving force. She made me a better person.
Hedy did good.
Most of all, Hedy dedicated her life to her family. She threw herself into motherhood and marriage with her usual gusto, which meant doing everything the right and best way and stay the hell out of her way.
There's never been a more dedicated mother. Together we made three beautiful, perfect children, Ruby, Celia, and Wolfie. But of course Hedy did all of the heavy lifting. She dedicated her life to them.
Hedy had natural births with midwives including having Celia at home. Everything that we did as parents was driven by her and the incredible research she would put into things. She did everything for our family. I learned how to be a dad from Hedy and Ruby.
Together we learned how to eat and drink and travel and see things. We loved to have fun and we loved to make moments meaningful. We fought and made up like crazy.
I was so proud of her when she got her master’s degree. I could never put it into the right words, and I'm sorry about that. I think that hurt her. She did well at everything she put her mind to. Her writing is amazing. I cannot describe how much I respect Hedy. I told her that but I don’t know if she believed me.
There were always plans. We spoke about retiring in New Zealand and Paris, which were the two best trips we'd ever taken together. Hedy could be happy in the city or the country.
She just wanted things to be beautiful. If things were beautiful, she was happy.
She was beautiful. She was an incredible dresser. She had an amazing eye. She made our homes beautiful. I told Ruby this week that the quality of the decorating in my homes will start getting worse starting now.
The quality of my life will never be the same without her. There is a hole in my heart.
Hedy was an artist in everything she did. In being a wife and mother and daughter and sister and student and teacher and writer and editor and traveler and the one who shaped our lives at home, Hedy was an artist.
I gave Hedy Neil Young and Iggy Pop. She gave me Johnny Cash and the Modern Lovers. She gave me everything.
Hedy was my partner in life. Just last week she called me her best friend. She was the first person I'd talk to if something remotely interesting was going on. I keep catching myself this week about to call her to talk about all this to say "can you believe this ****?"
I hate that I've lost my go-to person in life.
Hedy was in some pain recently. I am glad that is over. And while things ended badly, as they often do, I'm not thinking about that. I am thinking of the gift that is Hedy that was given to me for more than 15 years. I cannot believe I am so lucky to have had her.
Hedy helped to build a wonderful life for our family. I will spend the rest of my life continuing that and supporting our beautiful children. Hedy and I learned a lot from each other. I will take her lessons and make sure that Ruby, Celia, and Wolfie live happy, rich lives. You can count on that.
Hedy always wanted things to be perfect for herself and her family. She needed things to be just so, and she worked hard to make that happen with every aspect of our life. And while almost nothing in life is perfect, my love for Hedy is. It is deep and unflinching. As is my love for the three best gifts anyone could ever be given.
Thank you Hedy. Thank you for being my partner on this wild ride. I hope that it is beautiful where you are. I will love you forever.
