Good morning everyone, thank you so much for joining us today. I cannot express enough how much it means to my family and I. With that said, here we go.

I have been preparing to give this speech since I was seven years old. It does not make it easier, it does not make it better, but I want to give some context to the words I am about to share, because it's an unconventional day when a parent buries their child, so this is an unconventional speech. Brittany deserved a better life than the one she got. She probably also deserved a better sister than the one she got, but that is for my therapist to deal with.

When Brittany first got sick, I sat on the twin bed in the bedroom we shared and promised that I would be the perfect sister if only God would let her survive. To this day it remains one of my most vivid memories. I did not keep up my end of the bargain, I don’t think any seven-year-old or even a thirty-five-year-old could, but I also was not aware of terms of agreement. I could not know the years of suffering ahead and the toll it would take on her little body as well as our little family, but she took it in stride. While I was not always there for her in the ways I wanted to be, I did my best to live the life she couldn’t.

The night after she passed I got very drunk and ate a greasy cheeseburger, and thought about how one of the many things I wanted for her was to enjoy a night out with friends having too much beer and too many french fries. It devastates me that she never had a first car or first date, but she also never had to pay a parking ticket or nurse a raging hangover, so let’s call that a win. While we are here to acknowledge a life cut short, we are also here to celebrate a life lived to the fullest. Brittany managed to find joy in every one of the thirty two years she was given, which is the best any of us can ask for when dealt a less-than-perfect hand. Joy in art, joy in baking, joy in gaming,

Yesterday, when meeting with Rabbi Landsman, she asked us about Brittany’s life beyond her illness. While searching for my most vibrant memory of Brittany in the past few years I landed on a recent Thanksgiving, when the Powancher and Freeman cousins were playing Unstable Unicorns at the kids table. Yes, this thirty-something still sits at the kids table. We were all trying to calculate the perfect strategy to poison or evaporate or magic away the others’ unicorns, meanwhile Brittany snuck in with a full stable of unicorns in surprisingly few rounds for the win.

Everyone underestimated Brittany. They underestimated creativity, her passion, her determination. They underestimated her will to live, which is why I think she was able to stay with us for as long as she did. I will dream about the person she could have been, the art she would have created, the cooking shows she would have won, the small army of pomeranians she would have raised. Franky, I don’t think the world could have handled a Brittany at her full capacity. She would have outshined us all, which is perhaps why her light was dimmed at such a young age. Despite this, she was so lucky to have parents who made her their world. Mom, Dad, I am saying this now because I want everyone in the room to help you do this. You did everything you could, you gave her everything you could. It’s time to live your life. I want it more than anything for you, and I think Brittany would too.

Brittany, your life was too short and filled with too much turmoil, but it was also filled with laughter and love. I hope now you are finally at peace.