Current mood:	morose
Current music:	Mahler, "Das Lied Von Der Erde" (Klemperer/NPO)

A Service.
The funeral's in a few hours. I've agreed to be a pallbearer; it seems only fitting when you consider the number of times she's carried us. I've also been locked away most of the past few days, working on what you can see below. It's not at all complete to my satisfaction; she deserved so much more than my trifling skill with words can compile. But as Harmony has made all the arrangements, and Lorne is taking care of the cosmetic end of things, it only remains for me to do my part.

Here's the text. If anyone has any remarks or suggestions, they'll be gladly accepted.

--

Good evening.

Many of the people here today have been called heroes at one time or another. I don't doubt that the accolades are deserved. But so many of us have been thrust into this life. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's wondered, in an idle moment, if I would have chosen this path had it not been painstakingly laid out for me long beforehand.

Cordelia never had to ask that question of herself. Nothing compelled her or steered her into risking her life to help others. Every skill she learned, every ability she acquired, was something that she chose, at least on some level. There was nothing preventing her from walking away from the fight that we, and Angel in particular, have embarked on, but she selected to persevere anyway. She was, without a doubt, not just the bravest woman I've ever met, but the bravest person.

I see some of you working to disguise your confusion. Some of you who knew her from previous years didn't have the privilege to watch her develop into the person I'm here to speak of today. I'm afraid I'll sound rather self-congratulatory in this portion of my remarks. But the unvarnished truth is that not to know Cordelia Chase in the last few years of her life is to come perilously close to knowing her not at all.

I first met her at a time when we were both preoccupied with things that seemed, as the years passed, to matter much less. I'm sure some others will have some very humorous stories to relate about that time, but let's just say our initial impressions of each other were both more and less than accurate.

However, time and events leave their alterations. In the crucible that is the fight against evil, we're all stripped of our outer trappings. Whatever's left after passing through the fire is what defines you as a person. It's one of the only true litmus tests to determine a person's character left in the world. Some come out lost, beyond damaged, and run away to lick their wounds. Others abandon the principles that bought them so much blood and pain, and toss in their lot with the very forces they once opposed. Cordelia chose to dig deep into the bedrock of her own conscience, and found mother lodes of courage and compassion within.

It seems strange to think about it this way, but out of all of us, Cordelia was the one who had death hanging over her more than anyone. The visions she received from the Powers that Be turned out to be a fatal sentence. Then, no sooner had she miraculously escaped that, sacrificing some measure of her humanity in the process, she was forcibly taken control of by a powerful being with its own ends in mind. It was this creature that took her from us, leaving only her shell to linger on for months before expiring peacefully in her sleep last Wednesday.

This dry laundry list of her misfortunes and accomplishments, however, almost does her a disservice. It doesn't describe what it was like to see her smile, or hear her laugh. It doesn't begin to convey not only the warmth and humor with which she endured these hardships, but the underlying understanding with which she accepted them. In all the years I knew her, she was unconcerned with her own safety, sometimes to the point of blithe disregard. I won't say that she never complained; to do that would be to deny her humanity and cast her in the role of plaster saint, not to mention that no one would believe me. But it could never be said that she chose the easy way out. Countless numbers of people are alive today because of what she endured, including just about everyone sitting here. And on a personal note, I can honestly say that her fortitude is probably one of the greatest influences on my own personal growth, however much of that there has been. Whatever improvements and accomplishments I may have made over the years I owe in no small part to her.

The bitterest aspect to all of this, to me, is that at a time when she had the most to offer the world, it was denied the chance to reap the benefits, as were we. One wonders if it would have been better for her if she'd remained the blissfully unaware child of luxury she began life as. Who's to say that she would not have discovered other outlets for her compassion and intelligence? At least she'd still be in the world, which would be a selfish comfort for those of us who knew her. 23 is a terrible age for anyone to die at, but for her, who had such promise and skill, it seems almost unbearably cruel.

However, there are some things I am sure of. One is that she never lost her convictions, not even when she learned how great her sacrifice would be. She believed in who she was, perhaps more strongly than anyone else I've ever met; she believed in the things she fought for, and more than anything else, she believed in the people she loved.

I had an ancestor, one George Sutherland, Earl of Sussex, who lived in the 18th century. He was of course a member of the Watcher's Council, but also a poet in his spare time, somewhat of the A.E. Houseman school. Once, in a letter to his wife following her mother's death, he wrote these lines:

As we pass into the far skies of our time,
and so many of the people we cherish fall behind,
we may feel the wind falter under our wings,
and find the ground much closer than comfort will stand for.

However, those who continue on do so
because of an unexpected yet inexhaustible ballast,
that being the memories of the love
given to us by those departed.

If that is true, then Cordelia's love will be enough to enable us to cross oceans. We will all work to honor her memory until our last breath, and will remember her to the very end of our days.

Thank you all for coming.

--

A final word of thanks to all those who wished us well over the past few days. It's meant a great deal.