Fr. Vevik

Peter DeWolf Eulogy

Peter’s parents prepared this eulogy and asked me to read it.

Peter was the last of our gifts of children. Priscilla thought that our days of childbearing were in the past, so we were surprised -- and of course delighted -- to find that we had a new member of our family. He was an immediate comfort to Priscilla, who was faced with caring for her father, who was on the other side of the country with a spinal cord injury. To visit him, she packed up the suburban and drove across the country with the four children, stopping periodically to nurse Peter. She credits Peter with sparing the family from the tornados that seemed to follow them all the way to New York State.

Peter had both the benefits and the detriments of being the youngest of a large and rambunctious family. He was always a sensitive child, but that led him to endear himself to his family and friends. He was also cute as the dickens. His curly blond hair eventually gave way to an auburn shade, but when he grew it out to an Afro wannabe, it made all the girls swoon. He picked up a variety of musical instruments, and had an instinctive gift for mimicry and storytelling.

Occasionally he would feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He astonished his father one day by describing the depth of his feelings with such honesty that his father told him even as an adult he would be hardpressed to acknowledge what he was feeling, much less be able to describe it so perceptively. In a related way he had a very low tolerance for dishonesty, both in himself and in other people.

But, alas, that sensitivity and depth of feeling was not always an asset. He found it hard to adjust to the rough-and-tumble of school, particularly in the junior high and high school setting. He found an outlet in music, for which he was very gifted. He learned to play the guitar and sing almost effortlessly, demonstrated when he sang two songs at his sister’s wedding with impeccable professionalism. And he sought kindred spirits in his friends, who experienced an odd assortment of tragedies within his age group.

After a bicycle accident he was prescribed prescription painkillers that for the first time in his life gave him relief from the pain he had experienced both physically and emotionally. A year later he was finally able to get the help he needed to get rid of the habit that had engulfed him. He was given a prescription of suboxone, a drug that inhibits receptors for the synthetic opiates he had become addicted to, while providing some pain relief. He was also prescribed anti-depressants. Peter successfully followed this regimen for over two years, while he was being guided toward a "soft landing" that would get him off of all medication. But when the medicines were being adjusted, Peter experienced first anxiety, and then sleeplessness, and then depression, and then a series of blows to his self-esteem that left him in a condition he found unbearable. Having learned to be free of his addiction to prescription drugs, he could not find a stable medication regimen that made ordinary living tolerable.

When his friends learned the tragic news of his death, they were heartbroken, as we all were. He had worked so hard to help them struggle against their own demons, and he had so much to live for.

But we believe that we have not lost Peter – not really. All that was good, that was true, that was lovely about Peter – is now perfected. As Fr. Vevik pointed out last night, drawing upon the writings of Pope Benedict, each of us will be given the opportunity, and the grace, before entering Paradise, to bear that portion of the cross which we should have borne in life, but did not have the strength to do so. And that which we should not have been forced to bear – but because of this broken world is imposed upon us – all of that suffering will be transformed into something of everlasting value. Peter is now able to see clearly what was distorted and unrecognizable while he was with us. We wish – oh, how we wish – that he could have continued to be a help and a comfort to us in a more tangible way. But we have faith that he can and will help us to be our better selves.