A celebration of life

How a eulogy about nudism brought laughter and light to a room of mourners

A radiant lotus blooms in vivid color | Photo by Richard Dewey

I attended a celebration of life for my sister, who died on June 18, 2023, in Lancaster, California.

I knew I needed to get up and speak, but I hadn’t expected it to go quite the way it did. I’d prepared some notes the night before—just bullet points on my phone—but mostly, I spoke from the heart.

What I hadn’t counted on was being the first person to speak, essentially kicking off the ceremony. Nor did I expect to introduce the person after me—an LA County Sheriff’s deputy I’d never met. The minister never spoke at all, probably because my nephew isn’t religious, I’m not religious, and my sister wasn’t either. That’s just how it was arranged.

From the very start of my speech—my eulogy, I suppose—I had people laughing. Those who had been crying stopped by the time I was halfway through. I think I got them laughing five times in total.

And here’s what I told them: I told the story of how I introduced my sister to nudism, and why.

She had visited my house the previous October when she was already quite weak from cancer, so we couldn’t go camping as we’d hoped. She had never been a nudist, but every morning she stayed with me, we started the day with coffee and breakfast while bird-watching, and then went swimming—completely nude. She loved it. She soaked up the sun all over for the first time in her life. She was 69.

She had volunteered for the LA County Sheriff’s Office for at least two decades, so there were several cops in the audience. They laughed too. The deputy who spoke after me had clearly listened to every word, joking that he’d never be able to get the image of my sister, nude, out of his head. The audience got a good laugh out of that too.

It was a reminder to promote body freedom when you can—you may be surprised at how positive the response can be.

Oh, and I’m told I actually spoke for 30 minutes. Nobody minded at all. 🪐