Hope's Imperfection

Chapter 22: Hope

“One day in St. Ignace, Michigan, Philip told me that he didn’t like church pews,” Sarah began, as she looked out towards the congregation. “I’m sure he would have taken cruel pleasure in making all of you sit here today as I try to share with you a little about the remarkable young man that I first met only a couple of summers ago.”

“A eulogy is a daunting task; one wants to sum up the life and legacy of the person completely, reminding all of us of the unique qualities that our friend possessed, the things that will make us miss him and which should never be forgotten.”

“It is true that life moves on without our beloved Philip, our loving son or our caring bother, and in time his absence will become as normal to us as his presence had always been. It doesn’t mean that we miss him any less.”

“It is difficult not to see Philip’s passing as a tragedy, as such a promising young life has been taken before its time. Like his father, Philip leaves us only to wonder what he might have accomplished with more opportunity. But it is not his potential accomplishments that are the essence of Philip. I could easily prattle off a list of things that he did in such a short period of time, made even more significant by the battle that he fought against his illness, but I imagine such talk would have made Philip roll his eyes. More important is not what he might have done, but who he was, how he inspired us, and how he continues to motivate all of those whom he met.”

“I should relate to you the story of the first time that Philip and I met. It was at the airport in Chicago, and he was en route to his great adventure across the country to discover the legacy of his ancestor, Richard Stanhope. It is a story that has now been retold thanks to Philip’s willingness to uncover all of the details that were locked away over the formative times and places of our country’s rich past. I was, as usual, up to mischief when our paths crossed. He was the most handsome young man I had ever seen. It took only one glance into the full blue coolness of his eyes to make me fall in love. But I knew I was not alone; we all fell for him. When someone’s eyes are so kind, it is as if they are an extension of their heart, and this was the case with Philip. I have thought long and hard about how I could best describe Philip, but in the end I can only say that he was a perfect gentleman. Made of equal parts strength and wisdom, he was the kind of person that makes you count yourself lucky each day you can be with him, and you feel a shadowy loneliness when he leaves you. It is that loneliness that we feel collectively today.”

“Philip’s charm also made me jealous. He could enchant everyone he met at a moment’s notice with his unblemished manners and easy grace. I found myself hoping that those qualities were meant only for me, but he shared them with us all. I understand that it wasn’t easy for Philip to show his social side early in his life, but I am pleased to attest that he leaves behind a long list of friends.”

“One gift Philip gave me was the story of Richard Stanhope, a boy who overcame tragedy early in his life to raise a family through a tumultuous period in the nation’s history. I am currently completing the novel with the help of Lizzy McIntosh so that the Stanhope name can take a prominent place in the history of the United States. Philip believed that I was the one to write the novel and, for his confidence, I am eternally grateful. I give it back to the world as a gift to Philip and the entire Stanhope family.”

“It is very important that Philip’s mother and sister be acknowledged today. Frances and Olivia were the central basis of his operation. He adored them both. He would tell you that he wasn’t always the perfect son or wonderful brother, but he would be wrong. I thank them both for allowing me to find my way into Philip’s heart and for being generous enough to share him with me. They are my sisters.”

“The last gift that Philip gave me was the gift of music. For six delightful weeks he played and sang for my every night. He was a great lover of folk music and sang timeless songs I had never heard before but they quickly became my favorites. I learned the words and sang along with him, unashamed. Philip told me that he liked folk music because it made him feel American, but I think he also enjoyed it because it touched people. Philip was a sensitive soul. I realize that when you are blessed with such sensitivity it can become an overwhelming feeling. It can turn you inward to prevent you from being hurt, or you can use the emotion to protect your loved ones. I’m so glad that Philip eventually chose the latter.”

“On our last day together, Philip played for me one of the tunes that we sang together frequently on the road. It wasn’t until this morning that I realized why it meant so much to him. It was Philip’s way of preparing me for today. He was kind enough to think of someone else in contemplating his passing.”

“With apologies to Bob Dylan for my poetic reading.”

“Oh it’s fare thee well my darlin’ true
I’m leavin’ in the first hour of the morn

Oh the weather is against me and the wind blows hard
and the rain she’s a-turnin’ into hail
I still might strike it lucky on a highway goin’ west
though I’m travelin’ on a path beaten trail

So it’s fare thee well my own true love
We’ll meet another day, another time
It ain’t the leavin’
That’s a-grievin’ me
But my true love who’s bound to stay behind”

“It is a fact that so many of you knew Philip better and longer than I did, and maybe I sound like a drippy young school girl sharing petty remembrances of her first true love, but as the old poem by W.H. Auden says best, “he was my north, my south, my east and west” and I thank him for all that he was and all that he taught me.”

“Philip had a pet name for me and he used it whenever I was acting impetuously, which proved to be more often that I’d like to admit. He would call me “Shine”— it’s an inside joke— but every time he used that nickname it instantly disarmed me and made me feel at peace. If he was able to speak to me today he would undoubtedly say, ‘C’mon, Shine. Enough already! These poor people have been sitting long enough. Let them move about and enjoy the afternoon’.”

“My nickname for Philip will always be ‘Hope’.”