Kristin's Eulogy for Eli

 

My earliest memory of Eli is a day or two after he was born. He’d been born at home in Castlecrag, and the front bedroom was cloistered and warm, with a lingering smell and sense of birth.

I, all of seven years old, clambered up and snuggled into the nest of the bed. Eli was calm and sleepy, and Jan showed me the soft place on his head, the current of his heartbeat running just beneath.

A soft place. With a current of heart beneath. In these past few strange, heavy days, this has been the image that’s stayed with me. Because, while that soft place on Eli’s head has long since closed over, that softness stayed in his spirit. With an irrepressible current of heart beneath.

My son, with the uncanny sense of the very young, saw this in Eli the last time they met. It was an ordinary Tuesday night, 6.30 after a long day at daycare and work. Sebastian was fractious as he usually is at that time, grizzling and clinging as I was trying to cook.

Like most one year olds, Seb won’t have a bar of anyone who isn’t me. But that night when Eli walked in, Seb not only didn’t resist his advances – he actually reached out his little arms to go to Eli.

Kristy & Eli, Christmas 2006


This was astonishing to me. Seb didn’t know Eli particularly well, and he won’t even go reliably to my mum, who sees me most days, when he’s in that mood.

But Eli he wanted, and Eli he insisted on having. So he saw, you see. He saw that softness, that gentleness. With the heart beneath.

And I’m so glad. So glad for them, that they had that little slice of time. And so glad for me, that I have that memory.

Because that’s all we have now. Memories. In the days, and weeks, and years to come, it’s important that we keep sharing those memories.

And perhaps even more important than that, is to remember that soft, gentle, heart-filled spirit.

Because while Eli can’t make any new memories with us, his spirit will stay with us.

So we have to keep our hearts open, so that, although he isn’t here in body, Eli’s spirit can be part of all our experiences, and colour all our memories.

Eli we love you. And we’ll miss you so much.