I have an idea that when we die we live on in the hearts and minds and memories of those who loved and knew us. Wouldn't it be sad if when we died everyone we ever loved died with us? What a tragedy it would be if everything Owen ever did or said or taught was lost to the world. Our immortality lives in those who loved us and the memories they carry. This is the debt the living owe the dead.
I look around the room and I can’t help but think; “Man, Owen would hate this”. Not because we were talking about him. Owen would love that we were talking about him. He would hate that we are hurting. Owen had so much empathy for other people. He’d be on full blown Owen overdrive running around trying to make us all feel better. Just a full-on firehose of love trying to soak us down and quell the pain of our loss.
Owen had a way of drilling inside of you and getting to your heart. He was a helper in the truest sense of the word. I’m not surprised that in his professional life he worked with people with developmental differences. His giving and loving nature couldn't be denied. He earned a degree in accounting, thinking that he would follow his Mom into the business world but really that didn’t stick. His analytical mind, ultimately overcome by his love for people. Now, I know a little bit about accountants, I’ve been married to one for over 33 years. They have a certain, beautiful way of looking at life. You see;
They calculate the time they’ve spent
I look around the room and I can’t help but think; “Man, Owen would hate this”. Not because we were talking about him. Owen would love that we were talking about him. He would hate that we are hurting. Owen had so much empathy for other people. He’d be on full blown Owen overdrive running around trying to make us all feel better. Just a full-on firehose of love trying to soak us down and quell the pain of our loss.
Owen had a way of drilling inside of you and getting to your heart. He was a helper in the truest sense of the word. I’m not surprised that in his professional life he worked with people with developmental differences. His giving and loving nature couldn't be denied. He earned a degree in accounting, thinking that he would follow his Mom into the business world but really that didn’t stick. His analytical mind, ultimately overcome by his love for people. Now, I know a little bit about accountants, I’ve been married to one for over 33 years. They have a certain, beautiful way of looking at life. You see;
They calculate the time they’ve spent
The credit marked against the debt,
The sum of all he tried to be
In countless words of love.
And in silence I know you will hear
And in silence I know you will hear
All the words of love he shared
Freed from breath but spoken still
In memories of his love
They say, “find a job you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.” Well, Owen found people he loved. His work was not an ends to a paycheck, it was about satisfying the truest part of himself, his boundless capacity for love and caring. The credit marked against the debt. Owen died a wealthy man.
I am Tom Couey, Owen’s first cousin once removed. To understand what that means is to attempt to understand the Cary clan, a bottomless pit of family love. In the Cary family first cousins are like brothers and sisters, first cousins once removed are like the nieces and nephews and second cousins are, well, like cousins. It is simply impossible to talk about Owen without talking about family. I would venture to say that those of you who are Owen’s friends know quite a bit about Owen’s family. Am I right? You know Owens brother Reid and Eden. ReidnEden. I'll come back to you. Certainly, at bare minimum you know Owen’s parents Ron and Theresa. Ron & Theresa, two very different people who compliment each other so well, respecting and celebrating their differences while recognizing their manner of being in the world as intimately similar. Ron & Theresa are one of those couples that just become one word RonandTheresa, TheresaandRon, TehRon. TehRon. I’m hoping that one sticks.
They say, “find a job you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.” Well, Owen found people he loved. His work was not an ends to a paycheck, it was about satisfying the truest part of himself, his boundless capacity for love and caring. The credit marked against the debt. Owen died a wealthy man.
I am Tom Couey, Owen’s first cousin once removed. To understand what that means is to attempt to understand the Cary clan, a bottomless pit of family love. In the Cary family first cousins are like brothers and sisters, first cousins once removed are like the nieces and nephews and second cousins are, well, like cousins. It is simply impossible to talk about Owen without talking about family. I would venture to say that those of you who are Owen’s friends know quite a bit about Owen’s family. Am I right? You know Owens brother Reid and Eden. ReidnEden. I'll come back to you. Certainly, at bare minimum you know Owen’s parents Ron and Theresa. Ron & Theresa, two very different people who compliment each other so well, respecting and celebrating their differences while recognizing their manner of being in the world as intimately similar. Ron & Theresa are one of those couples that just become one word RonandTheresa, TheresaandRon, TehRon. TehRon. I’m hoping that one sticks.
TehRon raised two sons, Owen and Reid. And now, I’m just going to say it - Can we all just agree that Reid is Theresa and Owen is Ron? And even though that’s not really true just hear me out, I’m going to bring this around. It’ll be okay.
Reid, you have the soul of a musician and poet, a raucous and rebellious nature. An unstoppable tendency toward observation and celebration of the beauty that surrounds you. You are, in short, the embodiment of your mother’s laugh. You know the one. That joyful explosion that rises above the rest of the room. A laugh they can hear in heaven.
But Owen….
Owen is textbook Ron.
Shirt off hiking in the summer sun.
Crazy stunts - just for fun!
He’s a wild ride down a swollen river
A high dive, somersault, splash down, Sweet!
He’s a snowball fight in the middle of the street
He’s the laugh you hear when you fall off the tube
He’s the outstretched hand that helps you back in.
He’s a high five, fist bump, card game, glad you came, jump shot, boy scout, pillow fight, all night, down hill, no hands, kick the can, rock band, open arms, bear hug, love ya man, goin’ for broke.
And in the alchemy of your family
And in the alchemy of your family
I could easily say the opposite is true,
I see lots of Theresa in Owen and lots of Ron in you.
The complementary parts of your family's life together,
The gifts of one to the other
Have bound you forever.
Owen liked sharing a laugh at the end of the day.
Owen liked sharing a laugh at the end of the day.
Watching the sunset together - when there’s nothing left to say.
He had a caring streak a mile wide.
An open heart with nothing to hide.
Now would you please stand? By a show of hands. If Owen Newlin loved you I want to see you raise your hand. Now repeat after me. (responsive)
Hallelujah Now would you please stand? By a show of hands. If Owen Newlin loved you I want to see you raise your hand. Now repeat after me. (responsive)
Owen Loved me.
Hallelujah
Owen Loved me.
Hallelujah
Owen Loved me.
Owen’s family intend to scatter Owen’s ashes on the earth and in the water and on the wind of the lakes and valleys and rocks and mountains that he loved. But Owen is not in these ashes. Owen is in me and Owen is in you. Like these ashes Owen is scattered among us in the memories and the stories and the heartbreak and the lessons he taught us. I’m so happy. I’m so happy that Owen loved me. Hallelujah Owen loved me.
Owen’s family intend to scatter Owen’s ashes on the earth and in the water and on the wind of the lakes and valleys and rocks and mountains that he loved. But Owen is not in these ashes. Owen is in me and Owen is in you. Like these ashes Owen is scattered among us in the memories and the stories and the heartbreak and the lessons he taught us. I’m so happy. I’m so happy that Owen loved me. Hallelujah Owen loved me.
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