I had written 492 words to honour my brother’s 40 years. I wasn’t sure I could speak even one.
Standing at the podium, I couldn’t look out at the faces. We’d just watched the first of the slide shows — images of him with family and friends throughout his life. Since writing his eulogy, I hadn’t been able to read it aloud. My voice cracked, and tears poured freely each time I tried. Rule number one of writing: read it aloud to ensure it flows. But not this time.
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