We picked up Dad’s ashes today. I am discovering that there are a lot of things about cremation I hadn’t thought through. But here we are, and we will hold hands and walk together through this part as well.
I spent some time trying to figure out where to put the ashes in the car. Do I buckle them into the front seat? That felt weird. I decided on the trunk. Weird but hopefully safer. I felt kind of bad putting the ashes in the trunk of the car, and worried I’d get in an accident….. I’ve watched way too many bad sitcoms making fun of cremation mishaps I suppose. We made it home safely I’m happy to announce and I avoided any of those awkward moments.
Even though I was completely pro-cremation and had been certain it was what I would want for myself, the reality of it is turning out to be much more emotionally difficult than I would have thought. I understand we are not of the body. I understand that the Dad part of Dad left the building way back at the hospice. However, the reality that the body now is also gone seems to be a little much. Like he was just erased or something.
I don’t know, I suppose I will work that through in my heart at some point. It does interfere with my heart’s strong denial that Dad is anywhere but out for a walk, or out in the garden. Alive.
Dad’s ashes had to stay at my place for the afternoon. It wasn’t until after supper that I packed up my laundry and the ashes and headed over to Mom’s place. I was standing in my yard – laundry on one hip, urn balanced on the other side – looking behind the barn where they were chasing cows, and then looked up at the sky and said just so you know Dad, this tops the list of the weirdest things I have done. Then I walked over to the house talking to him the whole way. It was weird and nice all at once.
Today my happiness moments were served to me three ways: physical, emotional, and spiritual.
When we came home from school I lay down on the couch to rest for a minute and ended up studying my eyelids for an hour and a half. Not only have we had an exhaustingly emotional few weeks, but I don’t have blinds on our windows yet and it’s only dark from 11pm to 4:30am. Not enough sleep time. The nap brought me physical happiness.
After supper I went for a walk along the ridge. It’s where Dad used to love to walk. Not only did I feel closer to him, but I had some awesome walking companions. My emotional happiness:
The view from the ridge.
When I got back from my walk Jenna had done some chalk art expressing her feelings about her Grandpa’s death. It gave me spiritual happiness.
