I always found Death irritating. Inconvenient. Aggravating. Rude. A betrayal. Thoughtless. Mean.

It
sucks.

Turns out – it’s actually LIFE that can be that way

Life makes us fall in love with it: with sunrises and sunsets that light the skies over Ocean City or
Lebanon, over Kansas City or La Quinta; with private “big picture” moments of contemplation and
resolve, and feasts with family & friends--dances of celebration; with grape leaves and gumbo; with the
satisfying THUMP of a well-caught ball and the silent speed of a well-made car.

And then, when we’re heads or heels in love with it, Life pulls the rug out.

That’s the part that seems to suck.

Unless, just maybe, being alive means we need to somehow love that too. We need to love death. That
must be what Wallace Stevens meant when he wrote

Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her,

Alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams

And our desires…?

Death is the mother of beauty, mystical,

Within whose burning bosom we devise

Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly.

Until our own unknown moment arrives, maybe, after all, it’s just about how we play the game with all
the odds stacked against us by the house -- doing our best with the cards we have in our hands. Never
knowing when the bell will ring and the musical chairs stop.

Freddy’s party down here is over, except in our memories. His eternal party is just beginning.

Anthony Bourdain, who preceded Fred to that great casino in the sky where Mom and Dad and Andrea
welcome him, said ‘your body is not a temple; it’s a carnival amusement ride. Ride it for all it’s worth.”

My brother certainly rode it. I’ve never met a human being with a greater capacity for play. He played
his cards--all-out--right to the end.

By the way, he also managed to leave a few vital organs so others could continue the ride, live the
dream. That would make him smile -- that Lebanese smile we’ve read all our lives on the faces of Jede
and Dad, Tony and Uncle Eddy and Uncle Anthony.

Freddy, like Mom at Ameristar casino, stayed lucky to the end, cashing in his chips early while he was
ahead. He believed in luck.

But he had no patience for serious opera. When his Fat Lady sang, Freddy only had to listen to a single
note before crossing the finish line into the blessed peace of no more hassles.

Thank you, Cheryl, for giving him seven great years and the ride of his life.
Thanks to you, the honeymoon will never end for him.

For you it’s time to reengage with the sheer fun of life, the play and the dream, which is what would
make him happy. What did make him happy.

From now, dear great modern family, Freddy, carrying the baton, marches at the head of “our saints”
who live, not in some distant Valhalla, but right here for easy access, in the quiet clearings of our minds
and hearts: Jede and Tata, Nanee, Mamere, Uncle Wib, Uncle Dave, Cousin Bobbie, Aunt Catherine,
Kathy Coco, Aunt Selma and Uncle Bob, Aunt Leona and Uncle Vick, Bill and Connie Reynolds, Joe Lapin,
Mike and Marilyn Prestia, the list goes on and on.

It’s sobering to realize that, with the possible exception of Aunt Lorraine, I’ve known Freddy longer than
anyone else in this room.

Nature creates a force field between siblings of the same sex, two forces pulling in opposite directions—

One force drives, AWAY from each other, toward polar opposition: jovial vs serious, athlete vs scholar,
Louisiana vs Missouri, extrovert vs introvert, monetary vs literary, great hair vs NOT so much –

the other force pulls, not exactly TOWARD each other, but WITH each other so totally you can read your
brother’s mind from a single glance, and sometimes without the need for even that.

I feel blessed to report that after years of pulling apart to define our separate places in life we were able
to come together in the last few years, when Freddy brought me his dream to make a movie, ANDREW
JACKSON—BATTLE FOR NEW ORLEANS –

-- redefining nature’s force field even stronger than it had ever been on Benton Boulevard, Virginia
Avenue, and 75th Street.

Today I vow to all of you believers and supporters of the dream -- Cheryl, Matt-Mark-Amy-Sara-Jan-Don
-- that I will continue to work together with Freddy as long as fate allows to make the dream come true.
At his bedside last Saturday in Maryland, I asked Freddy to promise he would continue bugging me on
this from the great beyond -- I have no doubt he will because he’s already started.

Finally, thank you, Jan, for being at Freddy’s side so long and for providing him and our Atchity family
with your four great children whom we all love dearly, and seven grandchildren.

Cheryl and all of you -- Kayoko and I are available always. Don’t forget that, and don’t hesitate.

Meanwhile, let’s all continue, as Freddy did, to dream on!

Let some of Death’s peace and perspective seep in to how we treat each other.

Play on! Take the mysteries of Life with a grain of salt, but take the game dead seriously in the moment.

In the spirit of my dear brother, let’s party on--till we too drop.