Eulogy
I flew back to Florida alone that Friday. The flight there was great and fast, but they made me wait 40 minutes for my bag, while Grandma Sue waited out in her car, sorry!
I owe Melissa for suggesting that I ignore my initial gut-level reaction (that I should only take one trip down, for the viewing) and flew back to Florida to attend Chris’s military funeral. The viewing was a lot of things, but it didn’t give me the closure I was hoping for. Melissa knew that I’d regret not coming back… So I did. It helped that Grandma Sue gave me a present regarding the ticket cost, but work was waiting at home and other responsibilities. Melissa had to take care of the kids by herself for that time, and that is NOT an easy task.
One of the few pictures I took during the funeral… I thought it should be recorded that Dad was cleaning up Chris’s bike. And honestly, I think I was also thinking that someday I’d get to show Chris this picture. The mind plays funny tricks. See this image larger.
A handful of objects scattered on a table. No matter how many you scatter, they look lonely, because only one life really connected them all. See this image larger.
I know you can see me in the reflection of this shot, I just wanted a copy of it as I’m not sure I’ve got one. When he smiled with his eyes, he sorta glowed, didn’t he? You could tell when he meant it. See this image larger.
I delivered the following eulogy:
As far back as I can remember, there’s always been two styles of doing things. Chris style and everybody else style. Chris style meant handling a scenario with spontaneity and along with that, risk. From a distance, it would be possible to conclude that Chris didn’t think things through or that he was reckless. But that’s not the case, he was simply committed to his choice. Whatever it was that he decided to do, he was going to do it Chris style, and if the risk didn’t pay off, well… at least he had tried it the way he wanted to.
I offer a couple synopses of much larger tales from his earlier years as proof of this, I won’t elaborate on them, you’ll either recognize the story, or get the general idea… The leg injury at camp dearborn; the lopsided winter hat filled with complimentary mints; the chipped tooth that did not prove judo’s superiority over a new york style sucker punch; the flying W involving a dirtbike and quite a bit of air; the jet ski that stopped a few feet before he did; and the infamous – skiing off of the intended snowy-mountain-trail only to discover the olympic ski jump. You might think I’m making fun of him, but I’m not; because it was all part of Chris’s adventure. He didn’t even forget to smile during most of that. But more to the point, the very qualities that sometimes resulted in a bruise or a trip to the hospital; the rest of the time resulted in brilliant success on a daily basis. These same qualities also made him the best son, husband, sergeant, uncle, fisherman, nurse, brother and friend to have beside you in life’s everyday challenges.
Take, for instance a family party, a holiday, or even at a funeral, like this. Chris was the guy you wanted there. He was the conversational equivalent of maple syrup on oatmeal, or switching to jeans from one’s khakis. Chris opened his mouth to speak, and very real, very refreshing humanity poured out. Laughter, and humor; yes, sometimes cutting sarcasm, but underneath that veil: warmth. My Uncle Ken mentioned that it was Chris that helped him through his mother’s (our grandmother’s) funeral. And I’m sure each of you has a story wherein, at some point, he cracked you up. But he was more than talk: it was Chris that dashed around a hospital and asked enough experts about his little brother that he diagnosed shingles on my forehead from 800 miles away; it was Chris that gave up drinking after 20 something years of it, without looking back; it was Chris that allowed a stray cat to walk right through his front door and become a member of his family, and it is Chris… that is here with us today in our hearts and minds. If you took the time to get to know him, you can see him; he sits among you, and he’s rolling his eyes at the emotional words I said a moment ago. Giving me the forehead “L” for rambling too long. Because that, is Chris style.
I would like to challenge us all to celebrate my brother’s life by listening for Chris to speak to us in our hearts and minds, and when you hear him, please at least consider what he is suggesting; because the world has lost entirely too much Chris style already. Thank you.
Chris’s funeral was nicely done, and I think I speak for all the Chapmans when I say thank you to Anne Marie and her family for all their hard work and attention. I didn’t try the food, because my stomach couldn’t take it; but I liked that it was all stuff Chris loved. The photo slide-show was fantastic, the flowers pretty, the pastors spoke well, his friends emotional and supporting. (I now text Chris’s friend Tom whenever there’s a Cowboys or Giants game on, and I think that tradition will continue.) It was a gorgeous, impossibly sad day.
I stayed at Grandma Sue’s villa and helped out where I could. Again, neither of us were in much of a position to take or pose for photos; so there’s not much more to say about it other than I love Grandma Sue’s new place, and know that she’ll be comfortable and happy there. On Sunday, we watched the Giants pull off an extremely difficult come-back and cheered for Chris, whose texts were noticeably absent.
One of the few pics I took at Grandma Sue’s… I took it because I could see the word “IAN” in the bushes… looking at it again I see “NINA” to the right of that. I don’t think this is some mystical awesomeness; I just think that it turns out IAN and NINA are made up of a lot of straight shapes. Not a curve in those names, if you go all caps. Never even thought about that. See this image larger.
Highlighted. See this image larger.
Melissa took this one of Nina on November 6th at Panera back in Michigan and sent it to me via a text message. Apparently they got rid of all the noodles and carrots and were down to broth. A straw just worked better! See this image larger.
Video, November 5th
Click here to check out a video of while I was at Grandma Sue’s using my iPhone to record myself using the iPad to have video conferences with Melissa and the kids back at home. I missed them. Here Nina says that she loves me.
Video, November 5th
Click here to check out a video of Nina blowing me a kiss!
Dialogue, November 6th
Nina saw the light on in Melissa and I’s room: “Daddy!? Daddy!”
Mommy: “No sweetie, daddy is still in Florida.”
Nina begins crying.
Mommy: “But we’re going to the airport to pick him up tomorrow.”
Nina begins clapping: “YAAAAAAAY!!!!”
Audio, November 7th
Click here to hear this audio track of seeing my kids at the airport… I tried to take a video, but it didn’t turn out, as I disregarded it entirely the moment I saw my family. This is the first time I’ve been away from Nina or Ian for more than a few hours, and it shows. You’ll have to forgive the cracks in my voice; honestly I think the whole thing sort of hit me right there. Life is so precious and powerful. The word “Daddy” made it into high rotation in Nina’s vocabulary because of the trip — this was another huge leap towards being as close as she is with Mommy. Nina sees me now and says “DADDY!” and holds up her arms. That kind of thing. (Although a lot of times she calls me MommyDaddy, just like Ian used to.)
