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Where is the "Fun" in Funeral?


Zatha & Hans at the Naval Academy

Like our good friend Jennifer Ball said about Hans’s visitation service and funeral, “It was marvelous and horrible, joyful and heartbreaking, full of laughter, and solemn, peaceful - yes VERY peaceful. When I contemplate the last two days, PEACEFUL is the word that describes it best. In the midst of all the emotions PEACE reigned! Hans is at PEACE!” More turkey and chocolate sauce, and the chocolate sauce ruled again.

I know that the funeral is not the final process in the steps of our grieving. There are many hearts to be healed over time, and they will with lots of prayer and support. But the funeral is a significant step. And that step was taken Wednesday in a place in which we were honored to be. In Hans’s journal to Alexis that I mentioned before, he wrote to her under a photo he took of the big American flag that flies at the Surf City Pier where he spent countless hours in and on the water, that, “This is what brought us together. A shared desire to serve our country. The flag stands for freedom, the way you set my heart free by showing it how to love.” Though Hans had yet to serve on a battlefield, he was fully committed, training, and learning to be a leader on the battlefield, rooted in his love for what America stands.

The night before that, during the visitation service at the Naval Academy Chapel, we greeted so many wonderful people, and heard many more stories of others still grieving the loss of a loved one. The fathers and mothers who had lost a child, the brothers and sisters who had lost a sibling, shared their stories and our tears blended. Our loss reopened the doors of their past and their emotions were released again. It was humbling to hear these stories and to learn from them – we are thankful they had the courage to come help us along on our grieving walk; they let us know again that we are never alone.

It is human nature to categorize and simplify. We see it every time we stand in line at the grocery store. “Five easy ways to lose weight.” “Six signs that he really does love you.” “Twenty perfect summer hairstyles.” After we stood at the front of the line for the visitation service, to greet the many visitors, Eric felt (in his say-you're-cute, pat-pat rub-rub, data-gathering, scientific, cataloging way) they could be categorized into three groups:

1) Family, close friends, and 7th Company: Those who are related by blood, who have eaten in our home, who accompanied Hans on his many adventures, who sat with him in class, who babysat him long ago, who surfed with him, who worked with him at the NRA Whittington Center, who taught him, who laughed with him, who loved him.

2) Secondary connections: Those who are once-removed from Hans, who came to show support and love for us, the living – second cousins once removed, Grandpa’s fellow USNA ’60 company mates, Eric’s coworkers, one of my high school teachers, several Calvert High School ’81 friends and St. Mary's College of Maryland '85 classmates, members of American Nuclear Society of which Eric was a past President, the family from whom we are renting a house for Zatha’s graduation, etc.

3) Others: Those whom we can’t quite group into 1 or 2, when we initially meet them.

Group 1: You are our rocks, you have been there and seen the most and know the most and will talk about Hans decades from now. We needed you here and will call on you again. Keep praying.

Group 2: You have proven how small this world really is and yet how big it can be, evidenced by your long journeys to get here for these past two days. Your connection flowed with kindness, with you standing with us, singing with us, praying with us, and walking to Hans’s gravesite with us. Thank you for taking those planes, trains, and automobiles, some of you thousands of miles, to display that connection. You are in our grateful prayers for a safe return.

Group 3: This we found the most unexpected and profound. Here is what we heard from you in this group over and over: “I did not know Hans. I don’t know Zatha, but I am here to express how sorry I am for your loss.” Or, "I never met Hans, but Zatha is a wonderful friend. I'm so sad for you all." Wow! That takes courage. That takes kindness. For an unknown (to us) midshipman to stand in a long line, to express this to the family, I call that courage. I call it character. It shows that the moral and mental development of these young men and women are beyond the societal norm. Those midshipmen realize that he or she is part of a bigger Navy Family, something bigger than them, and stepped forward to express it. Thank you for coming forward and continuing on with the mission of the U.S. Naval Academy. For you we wish fair winds and following seas.

This past week I have read or said or written the word ‘funeral’ more times than I have in a lifetime. It’s a dreaded word to write. A word not spoken often. A word that can stop a conversation in an elevator. And this past week I noticed that ‘funeral’ starts with the letters 'fun'. So where is the 'fun' in funeral?

A funeral might be 'fun' because you get to see so many people confess their faith and love in God.

A funeral might be 'fun' because we get to rejoice in the gifts of music and voice of those who come to share those gifts.

A funeral can be 'fun' because we get to see people flow with kindness in so many ways such as taking care of Fifi and Floppy, doing laundry, sending food, getting tissues for tears, opening doors, picking up checks, sending flowers and blankets and books, donating to wonderful causes, visiting with us, sharing stories so we know we are not alone.

A funeral can be 'fun' for getting in a good cry. If a baby doesn’t cry at birth they get a low Apgar score and maybe a trip to an incubator. Crying is the natural outlet for the human emotions of great joy and deep loss. We non-Hollywood types really can’t control it. To see the watery eyes, or tears streaming down cheeks was to see that purest form of emotion and expression of pain, human to human. It is a testament to human compassion.

A funeral can be 'fun' because we get to reconnect and share lost memories with dear friends from the past (we did WHAT at the Green Door?!).

Some may have thought it 'fun' because as we sat as his gravesite, my mother and I realized that from his resting place is a clear view of the window of the room where I was brought back to just after being born.

This funeral held some 'fun' because we got to celebrate the fun that Hans found in his everyday life.

Thank you all for having some fun with us during Hans’s funeral, it will give us all a better understanding of our loss of Hans, help mend our hearts, making us stronger warriors for good.

Below are the words Zatha wrote in her eulogy about her love for her brother. She felt it was not nearly complete. Can we ever really express the full measure of our love in writing? She headed back to school today with her head held high, looking for the shining memories of Hans reflected in the faces of her fellow midshipmen. Pray for her continued strength.

Below her words is a link to a brief and lovely video we found of portions of Hans’s funeral. I found it serendipitous (or is it more than that?) that the ad that plays for our computer before the video runs is about raising money to help those living with multiple sclerosis, the disease that took Eric’s father at a relatively early age. I am reminded that my husband has lost two of the most important men in his life much too early in their lives, and my heart aches for him. Pray for his continued strength. And as always, pray for the continued strength of anyone close to you who is suffering. My hope is that it will help us all flow with a little more kindness and a little more love.

From Zatha:

As Hans’s sister, best friend, most trusted confidant, and other half I can tell you that there is not one thing about Hans that I did not love or cherish. Losing him didn’t make me say,“Oh, I should’ve done more with him,” or, “I should’ve appreciated him more” because in the past 20 years with him we made the most of it, we never took each other for granted, and every time we spent time together I thought to myself how incredibly lucky I was to have him as a brother. He was my little bro, but I looked up to him. I sought his approval. I wanted to make him proud.

Of our 20 years together my favorite was 2005 when we lived in a ritzy apartment in downtown Washington, DC. Most siblings would hate to share a room, especially a brother and sister duo, but having Hans as a roommate that year taught me how truly precious the bond between siblings can be. Every night we would lie there awake talking from across the room well past our bedtime and I remember thinking “even if he was the only friend I ever had, I’d be content,” and it’s true! He never failed to make me laugh, make me think, or make me DO. I was never bored when Hans was by my side.

On certain days in high school or during leave breaks from the Academy when I would just feel like lazing around the house, Hans would think of something creative or fun for us to do. Our last Christmas day together he got the idea for us to grab our longboards and drive out to an abandoned cement factory on the outskirts of town where we spent hours exploring, climbing over and under fences, venturing into the creepy underground area, skating on the sloped roof of the admin building, ignoring many 'No Trespassing' signs, and hiding from a security guard.

Hans had a way of making things memorable; days didn’t just blend together when you spent time with him. I can’t even begin to tell you how much fun we had this past spring break together; he made me laugh so much over the course of that week that I didn’t need to incorporate any ab workouts into my running schedule and I wanted the road trip back to the Academy to never end.

Hans, you were the best brother that any sister could ask for. I love everything about you: the talents that make you YOU, your humble nature, your incredible sense of humor, your intelligence, your ability to know the right thing to say in any situation, and your zest for life.

Thank you Hans for everything, I can’t wait to skate, surf and laugh again with you in Heaven.

To see a video of Hans's funeral please see:

To see photos of Hans's funeral please visit:

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