Tanner’s Services

Eulogy of Tanner David Lamb, Read by His Mother

*sound quality better with headphones

Grief expressed out loud, whether in or out of character, unchoreographed and honest, for someone we have lost, is in itself the greatest praise we could ever give them. Grief is praise, because it is the natural way love honors what it misses. -Martin Prachtel

Instead of the regular stoicism we are so accustomed to in the West, our outdated traditions of “not openly displaying our grief”, It is my job as Tanner’s mother, to see that he is well mourned, that adequate praise is given to his life to help him on his journey to the next world. It is on the river of our tears, that his soul travels across the great lake of grief, to land him on the shores of bliss, that he so longed for and deserves.  

So before I begin the story of Tanner’s life, I ask that we give up the idea that strength in loss means not crying. It is our tears that will help Tanner journey smoothly to the other side. Let them flow freely. 

Tanner was born September 24, 1999. Very near the birthday of my two favorite people who are both born on September 25th. Nick and Katie. For this reason, I knew I’d like him immensely. I knew that he’d be deep and special, someone important to my life’s path. And he was. 

He almost didn’t have a name when he was born. I read the entire baby name book to Ray. From a-j I got nothing but no’s. I got a maybe on Jackson. Then from J-T I read on. Finally, on “Tanner”, I got a yeah, I like that. We both did. And so, he became Tanner David. David which comes from Raymond’s uncle David who passed while I was pregnant. 

Tanner was a kind of shy and timid kid. But once he took to you, when he smiled, it was like the sun shone on you alone. He had this exquisite inner magnetism. It was as though he’d pose a challenge to the people that he met. And people were attracted to his challenge to win him over. In the process of winning his love and trust, a unique bond would form. He would leave people feeling like they’d gotten a prize, or an award, when he finally cracked a smile, and reached up for a hug. Or when he chose you to hang out with. It was like being chosen first to be on the team. For this reason, Tanner had so many big people, aunties and uncles, who loved him. And today, so many people are broken by his transition. 

There’s a quote by Maya Angelou that says, “people will forget what you say, people will forget what you do, but people will never forget the way you made them feel” Tanner had that special gift, to make me feel special. To make me feel like I was the only mom in the world for him. I’m going to achingly miss the way he loved me. I’ve talked to so many other people who felt that same way about him. Each had something special or unique he shared with them. 

Once someone told me “Megan, you have a type”, when speaking about the type of men I have been attracted to across my life. They said, you tend to pick men with big families. It’s not about hair color or height, it’s the size of the love that stands behind the man. I think that’s because the family I had to offer a child was unusually small. I had always wanted a family bursting at the seams with love, and for Tanner, we were able to give him that. In some of the most unusual ways. 

The Lamb family is huge, and full of love. And Tanner fit with them. He had a place to go, a cousin, an aunt, a grandparent to turn to whenever he needed help. I don’t have a visual of him ever being left alone as a kid. He was always surrounded by a gigantic bundle of affection, love, and care, no matter where he was. With the Lambs he got to experience true belonging. And he found that he shared many of their interests. As a mother who is the product of adoption, and didn’t always have that natural ease when it came to inherited traits, I was relieved he had a place where he saw himself mirrored back to him. 

Tanner was wise beyond his years as a kid. And yet, I always got this feeling that he was brand new here. Like this was the first time his soul visited the planet. Or conversely, other times, that there was some mission his soul had that I had zero understanding of. And he understood a little. This part is hard to capture with words. But it is essential to understanding him. And why we must all believe that his soul is now at peace. 

In fourth grade, he kept getting in trouble with a certain group of friends at Harrison Elementary. Instead of continuing on that path, he asked to switch schools in order not to be labeled a bad kid. He was that smart. He knew he’d get into trouble by association. 

It was around this time I began to find what I thought were “notes” in his pockets. But they weren’t. When I opened them, they were interesting poems. I knew they were something private, so I didn’t approach him about them right away. But after finding a dozen or more I finally asked “Tanner, why don’t you share your poetry with me, I think it’s beautiful”. To my surprise, he announced that they weren’t poems, they were lyrics to songs he was writing. The songs he eventually went on to make, won’t be everyone’s cup of tea. They are full of the same kind of darkness that often plagued Tanner. But I loved them. He sent them to me. And I LOVED them because they were his art, his way of expressing himself, and I’m glad he had the courage to follow that passion all the way to the end. He sent me a song just last week called See You Soon. And while they aren’t appropriate for the Church, we have made a website that will feature his music, and his photos, and things from his life as a living memorial to him. 

Tanner was an international kid. When he was young, I married my husband and he spent time living with us overseas. This was another place he found a wellspring of love and belonging. His shyness began to dissipate as he learned to speak arabic. He began to do things on his own, go out and play soccer with friends, go to the park, he even gave us concerts while singing in Arabic. Again, everyone he met fell in love with him, and fought to win his enigmatic smile. 

Despite all of this love from all corners of the globe, to me, he was mine. My baby. We were so much alike. We could talk for hours about the nature of the world. Most don’t know this, but he was a spiritual kid, who thought about the underpinnings of reality. He thought about God, Heaven, Guardian Angels, and all of the things. If the energy in the house felt off, he’d ask me if we could smudge it with sage. He liked when we burned incense. He was into all my witchy things. 

He was also hugely protective of me. He was my baby, and I was his mama. We once went to the gas station and the man at the next pump cracked an innocent joke. Tanner got out of the car and peacock walked around to me and took over pumping. If my little kids gave me a hard time, he had a word for them. When my husband and I argued, he’d want to get involved. I know all my kids love me, but Tanner loved me like a little man. It was an endearing trait. He was such an unbelievably special and loyal person. 

He had a similarly unique relationship with his grandmother’s, who I know are both struggling immensely with this loss. As tough as he acted on the outside, it was the women in his life who knew how incredibly sensitive, kind, and sweet his soul was. 
And what can we say if Ray? Those two, were two peas in a pod. Mirrors of each other. With a love deeper than I’ve ever witnessed between father and son. It wasn’t a traditional father son relationship. It was a soul reunion for them. And even as my heart aches for myself, my heart aches for Raymond, for my husband who poured his love and care into Tanner, and for all who knew him. There is now a gaping whole where Tanner should be. 

 I’m sorry I lost him. I tried to keep him. I tried to Mother him. I tried to see him in his most powerful light. I thought about my kids, and I can say with peace, I did the best I knew how at the time. His time here was so short, so fleeting. I think as the days turn into weeks, and into months, we will see all of the treasures he left us with. And our love for him will carry on in a new way. I’ll always be his mother. 

To Tanners parents, and family, our job now, is to keep his memory alive.

More Elements from his service forthcoming.