♪ (quiet keyboard) ♪ In something like our mothers we grew til’ red was again the color of the water, and pain wasn’t something
either of us could point to. Because it was what it was. And morning came, not knowing
if it would come again, and love was the only thing assumed. And love should have been enough, someone without a heart might say. The day you died because you wanted to, I tied my wisdom tooth
to a doorknob and pulled it loose. Take everything I think I know,
every answer is a grave. Now the questions
are the rain I walk through to find my way to God. And my only God is faith
that there is comfort here, that who is hurting might hurt less
than they did before. What else are all these coins
and all these wells for if not to wish the grief asleep
in the lap of someone else’s grief til grief comes not knowing
if it will come again? Your sister thought the hearse
was a limousine til she asked where it was going. And then she knew for sure. That’s what a word like heaven will do. But heaven, that wasn’t
what you were aiming for. You didn’t think
the other side would be better. You thought the other side
would be nothing at all. Imagine choosing nothing at all. Imagine something hurting that bad. I didn’t still have the ring
you’d given me. I crushed it with a rock
to see how much you loved me. I love you to pieces too. It hurts me in my head now how you knew the water
wasn’t deep enough to dive into. But I won’t let anyone say
it was a shallow thing you did. I knew it was your entire body
finally pointing, saying here, here is where the pain is. I can crush a can
with the heel of my shoe. I can drive by your mother’s house if I want to. But, I don’t want to. She was there when you bought the ring. She knew how long you’d been saving. Me, I didn’t save anything. But you don’t lose a person
like a set of keys ’cause you don’t find them again, and you can still get
to where you’re going. Resilience itself
is an awful thing to grieve. Who with a heart can stomach
how much we can stomach? All your blood in the water, and I could still wade through, and I will again, and I will again, and I will again with everyone I lose. So what I want most, what I want most is to live the rest of my life desperately wanting to live it. I want to give that to you. I wanted to find you
in the nothing at all. And I want it to be something. When I say, “I want to make
something of my life,” that’s what I mean. (applause)