Scattering

On Saturday, we are taking my dad's boat out to his favorite spot and scattering his ashes. I have the ashes in my bedroom. The funeral home put them in a weird, black container and when I went to pick them up, I saw that it was going to be very awkward to try to do any kind of scattering. They told me theyhad a special, "scatter urn," that would be another couple hundred bucks. What a business that is. There I am, holding the remains of a man I loved to the end of the earth, trying to control myself so I didn't start blubbering. Not exactly in a position to say, "Do you have anything cheaper?" So I left his remains there again and they transferred the ashes into this new one.

So nowthat's on a beautiful, little table in my room, along with his blue baseball hat that says the name of his beloved boat on it, and also his reading glasses. It's my littleshrine to him. When we first put the urn in my room, my son and I both gave it a kiss.

I'm not looking forward to this boat ride. I don't want to be on his boat without him. I am even having a hard time with the idea of parting with his ashes. It's all hard, this stuff. So much harder than I would have guessed if you'd asked me when I was 25 what it would be like when I lost a parent.

But now, yoga. Just breathe, right?