Let me first begin by saying that as I was preparing this eulogy, I was struck by the fact that it was not a difficult task. I usually hear that people struggle to write eulogies, but I have to say I did not find it too hard. And I did not find it too hard because I thought about how great my Lola was and is, literally all the time. The fact that you are here today shows that you knew what a force of nature she is too. And that brings me immense joy and pride.

Now death is difficult, especially when it is sudden, like this one is, but at the same time, it provides us an opportunity to reflect on the fragility and beauty of life.

Lola, it pains me that I won’t be seeing you around anymore, but I will admit that I am not afraid to do life without you. I will miss you, so much, but I will not crumble without you. You did not raise me to falter in the face of hardship. And it is precisely because of you that I am confident in my ability to carry on. You taught me everything I need to know, after all.

Allow me to share with you all today the lessons my Lola taught me, that I’m sure she taught you too, as I feel they are important ones for everyone to carry with them.

Lola, you taught me about the aim of true love: It brings strength. It makes you a better person. It allows you to learn to be whole on your own, no matter what comes your way. It makes you believe in yourself.

You taught me about the unconditional nature of love: It does not mean loving someone no matter what they do to you. It, in fact, means holding yourself accountable and holding your loved one to the same high standards. It means having integrity. It means taking care of yourself so you can take care of them, and they, you.

You taught me about power. You taught me that power need not roar, terrorize, or destroy. You showed me that true power whispers. It nurtures, it defends, it protects. It strengthens others. It feels all encompassing, yes, but it does not needlessly threaten. It unites. They always say that empowered women empower women, and you are a shining example of that.

You taught me about respect. From you, I learned that respect begins with respecting yourself and then translates to respecting others. From you I learned that life is too precious and too important to live casually, carelessly, flippantly.

Life is a great gift, and we must treat it as such. This begins and ends with knowing our own value, not waiting for others to bestow it on us, and chasing after what we know we deserve.  It also means knowing what others deserve and giving it to them, especially in the face of injustice.

You taught me about beauty. Of course, you and I were quite often preoccupied with our appearances. There was nothing we loved quite so much as getting ready for events together, choosing our outfits, talking about hair and makeup, selecting our jewelry, taking our pictures and examining how we looked. (And you always looked great). But it was in these moments with you, and by watching you move through the world, that I learned that beauty is not something to be conformed to. Neither can it be bought. Beauty is instead lived. It is expressed. It is shared. And that is indeed the mark of a woman’s true beauty: It is the light that shines on others, amidst darkness. Your light shines so bright it is almost blinding, even now.

You taught me about freedom. You taught me that this world is not built for women to be free. And that freedom is most certainly not granted. It is fought for, and it is earned. It does not always mean a complete rejection of responsibility and obligation. You of all people would know that. Instead, it can mean a small but meaningful change. You taught by example.

You taught me about bravery. And that bravery is not lived through an absence of fear: It is found through having courage and faith, despite the fact that we are afraid.

You taught me about joy. You taught me that joy does not come from an easy simple life. Happiness may but happiness is temporary. Everlasting joy — well, that comes from a life lived rising to every challenge. Striving for excellence. Savoring every moment. Making every day an occasion for yourself and others, no matter how mundane you could allow it to be. 

My last words to you were: I love you. You are the strongest woman I’ve ever known. I will always be with you in spirit. I didn’t know that your body was about to die. But the beauty of that final conversation I think best represents the love shared by you and me: Every day was special. You were and will always be my queen, and you made me feel like a princess.

When you visited me while I was working in New York a couple of days ago, spending my day doing exactly what you did with so much of your time. It was after you had passed, and yet I knew that you were only repeating what I already knew, and what you had told me in text messages, in person, and in all the cards you wrote me over the 23 years we shared on this earth: That you loved me, and that you would always be here for me.

Of course, I could keep going, but I also learned from you that there is always an appropriate time to stop talking and that sometimes nothing else needs to be said. Thus, to conclude, it is therefore, as I’ve told you time and time again, a privilege to know and have known you. To have been raised by you, to have learned from you. It is a privilege to love and be loved by you. And I will never forget it.

If there’s one thing I know about you and me, it’s that we don’t break our promises. You will always be with me, and I will always be with you. I love you, and I will see you soon. In the meantime, don’t worry about me, and about any of us. We will be good.

May you rest in power.