Eulogy for a Living Uncle
“8” by Migyoung Yun
Because at the funeral, the right time to say it is already too late.
Because of that speedboat rental you ran aground and said look what we’ve done now, kid.
Because of the starched jumpsuit you’d visit in, after motorcycling the backroad straightaways to our house. And how once, you sauntered in wearing a splotch of rust-red, where a hummingbird’s beak and your thigh competed for space going 90.
Because when I was four, we spent what felt like the whole afternoon singing Elton John’s “I’m Still Standing” in your ‘87 Escort.
Because you never said a word after my teenage sister slipped dye packets into the hose, just before you bathed your white terrier. But when you bought us takeout the next day, you hid a balloon full of soda in her cup. Then, when she jabbed her straw in, the soda geysered out.
Because today I’m as old as you were when you brought us to our first concert. My sister voted for New Kids On The Block. I wanted The Smashing Pumpkins. You were the tiebreaker. So we saw Depeche Mode.
Because some stories are best told before they end. At least, that’s what you said when you came out to everyone. And when dad couldn’t change your mind about it, he said we weren’t going to see you anymore. We weren’t allowed to ask where you were going. And you weren’t allowed to say goodbye.
Because some events are best remembered before they change with age. Like when you visited six years before the very last time. I asked for a bedtime story, so you said have you heard the one about the rabbi, the priest, and the lawyer?
Because when you caught us playing with your saber replica, you charged out with a half-cantaloupe, saying swing batter batter, swing.
Because a decade later, I still see you in the faces of passing strangers. Because you don’t have to be dead to leave a ghost.
Because some stories are best told before they end. And the day I find you again will be the right time for me to say it.
About the Author
J. Condra Smith (he/him) is a queer writer with roots in both Mexico and the U.S. He holds an MFA from The University of Maryland, where he also taught creative writing. His work has appeared in Fiction International, among other publications, and was an honorable mention for the final issue of Glimmer Train.
about the artist
Prajna Yun (Migyoung Yun) is an artist who draws ink paintings based on meditation. She was born in Korea in 1969 and has been fascinated by Korean Zen philosophy that is embedded in Korean culture. In her works, she pursues quiet meditation and access to truth, and has the conviction that personal peace leads to world peace.
The ink paintings she works on mainly use ink and Korean Hanji, and she works by combining them with other materials. Her ink paintings emit energy with the dynamic energy of the universe as waves on the screen. This energy communicates with the observers who look at the paintings.
She has held solo and group exhibitions and published poetry collections not only in Korea but also in the United States and Europe, widely publicizing her world of meditation. This year, she will approach those who are in need of comfort through her unique world of meditation, Zen ink paintings, and comfort their souls.