“In the summer of 1998, my grandmother Eila Lee Coffeen passed away at the age of eighty-two. Over the preceding ten years she and I had gotten to be pretty good friends. She was funny in ways that I never expected a grandmother to be: she was quick with a retort, could role play in telling her own stories, and just had a fun and mischievous way about her. So when she died, I wanted to offer something of a eulogy (literally eu [good] logos [words]), a brief speech commemorating her long and interesting life, and our shared past.
Let’s just say the speech did not go over very well with the gathered mourners at First United Methodist.”