The Eulogy

It was a quiet service, filled with the usual solemnity that followed funerals. The graveyard was silent, filled only with the sound of a single droning voice that spoke of sorrow and grief. The preacher stood, speaking over the coffin with the dignity of his position, carefully emphasizing every phrase that he felt was important.
"As a man of many friends, Mr. Smith was especially vibrant in his personality," the preacher was continuing, "Though I did not know the man, I have heard only good things about him. He was a strong man who knew what he wanted in life and set his goal to achieve it. He was a father, a son, a brother, and an uncle – everything that a family could hope for. Although he has passed, we know he will be greatly missed."
The preacher was a younger man with a boyish face and the same chivalrous charm that a knight might have, saving a beautiful princess. He was tall and lean, handsome and well spoken, and yet somehow there was no cheerfulness in him then. With every word he poured his soul into the first eulogy he had ever given, empathizing with the grief that he was sure the man's death caused.
"Forever we will mourn the loss of dear Mr. Smith, and forever his name will rest near to our hearts. Today we know we have lost friend, family, and a spiritual brother to us all. Let us have a moment of silence to honor Mr. Smith one last time."
The call for silence was hardly necessary, but it was procedure. With a respectful nod of his head the preacher counted out the minute, careful to make sure it was as exact was possible. Finally he raised his head, filling his lungs with air and his heart with one final wave of grief.
"We will see Mr. Smith again, someday," he said mournfully, "but until then we must know that he is in a better place. Let us pray."
With as much sorrow as he could pour into every word the preacher prayed for the dead man, his eyes locked on the coffin before him. When he finished he whispered an "Amen", at last looking over the coffin.
Before him there was only the coffin and the hole that it would soon be put into. No person stood sobbing in the audience, no woman dabbed her eyes or had tears clinging her to lashes. Nearby stood the men waiting to put the coffin to its final rest, though none seemed to have any interest in hearing the preacher talk.
The preacher looked down at the coffin one last time before walking away, never looking back. In his mind he was admiring his first eulogy, the dead man forgotten by him just as he had been forgotten by everyone else.