Tonight Ash and I were going through old bins and organizing and scanning in old pics. While Ash did all the work, I went through our old artifacts and reminisced. I found a photo book that my mom put together of Bolton's life. In it was the eulogy I wrote for his funeral. Since his 18th birthday (in human years) is coming up on the 22nd, I thought I'd share that day with you all.
Bolton’s Eulogy
I wanted to write a eulogy for Bolton. I didn’t know where to start, so with all things my search began on the internet. I came upon this fabulous site called freeeulogies.com. The writings were very touching; they all came from the heart. A eulogy from many hearts is better than a eulogy from one, so I thought I’d include some of their thoughts in my own eulogy for Bolton.
Today we celebrate the life of my dear friend, Bolton. On behalf of my entire family, I want to thank all of you for your compassion and for being present here today. I told myself I wouldn’t cry, so I won’t. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Eric, and I'm your son, brother, husband, or brother in-law. But more importantly, I’m Bolton’s friend.
He was born on June 22, 1990-something and died sometime in the past two years. Bolton you were my teacher, my mentor and my dear friend. You provided me your counsel and wisdom. You shared your joyous smile and laugh. You shared your zest for life and the passion for all those things that were important to you. You’ve always been considered one of us. Whether it be mom yelling at you or Jacob, we never knew who she was talking about, or dad referring to Ashley as Bolton’s wife, you were always family.
I know you all would want me to share my Bolton story with you. Bolton was committed to the practice and preservation of Jewish life. His travels into our lives began in a box. His namesake and sufferings began with the horrible music of Michael Bolton. I never admitted to my friends about how he got his name. I just said he was very fast.
Bolton enjoyed the little things in life, the quick cool dips in the pool during the summer, eating the raw eggs off the grass after the annual egg hunt, poker nights with Steve on Tuesdays, chasing the black birds that would steal his food and humping the Rush boys. You would have never known his family jewels were stolen. He was energetic, loving, and had chappy skin on his elbows.
You will be missed Bolton. Whose earwax will Trent pick with his bare hands and have Jacob sniff while playing “Would You Rather”? Who is now going to entertain us, now that there won’t be any more red rocket? Whose face will I rip one in as I climb the ladder? Sure the flowers on the side of the fountain will grow. Sure we can eat outside now without having to worry about the smell. Sure we can save money by not having to buy the recalled/poisonous dog food that really did you in. We continue to keep the gate closed, not because we are still worried about you being able to get out, but really to keep the Mexicans out. We are saddened that you did not get to find your eternal mate here on earth. We knew you wouldn’t take as long as certain uncles, had you the opportunity. Your memory will live on.
During the last months, weeks and days of the life of Bolton, during that hard time of his illness, he was not dying. He was living. Until he went to see the vet…..As the rest of us laugh and Amy cries, we think back about good times we shared. His body may be gone, but he lives on in the deepest fiber of our being. His life and blood and memory live on in us, his children and grandchildren and, soon, his great-grandchildren. Your name will live on and not just as the password for my email. We can all rest in peace with you and know that Darlene McCloud will never again take you away.
RIP Bolty
Dad holding Bolton and saying some last words in his work/surgical gloves.
Sarah and Braden are either newly weds here or they ran out of room on the bench.
Mom and Dad passing out the photo books.
Here is Jacob checking out Bolton's life in pictures. Yes, Kinzy is required to wear a helmet while outside.
Jeff and Kennedy
Funeral procession
Cody digging the hole to bury Bolton.
We all took turns putting dirt on the grave.
Some were a little more emotional than others.
And one was a little more emotional than all.
Dad throwing on the final layers of dirt WITHOUT his work gloves. What a soldier.
Moment of silence
Bolton's Hill
