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Our home is cluttered in the manner of an eccentric. We never have
been known for our neatness, but now there are pathways of daily
living that we take through our stacked belongings. The reason is we
believed the workers could do what they said they could. The
remodel of the bedroom should have been done a month ago, now it
will take the new guy (who has become a personal friend) another
week or two to redo it. For one room! So we live in a storeroom for
now.
Ah well, life is a box of chocolates, right Forrest? Who would have
thought, for instance, that I would acquire the habit of sitting up in
the middle of the night writing? In the kitchen no less! I have a nice
big-top French Provincial table with curvy legs, and its big top is just
as chaotic and backed up as the rest of the house. The Buddhist
icons and family memorabilia are covered with a haphazard layer of
garbologist delight.
Balanced atop a stack of file folders is an American flag, folded so
perfectly in the military style, looking like a starred croissant. My
sister gave it to me at the cemetery Friday. She and her husband, Ric,
have been handling the details of Father’s death, and somewhere
along the line our government awarded him this honor for his
warring at the Battle of the Bulge. I will display it in a shadow box
along with his medals. He will have some wall space somewhere that
will only become clear as the remodel moves forward. Probably he
and I will end up in the laundry room…he will be on the wall, and I
will be typing on the folding-shelf. (insert rimshot here) But
seriously, folks…
Jack was the star of the funeral. It was Father’s funeral, but Jack set
the tone. He even outshined the female priest. The Episcopalians are
really with it. They have the right idea. I’m all for female priests.
Mary was a wonderful presence, just as Beverly was at Mother’s
funeral. Both brought grounded warmth, but it was Jack who kept us
in the moment, reminding us in a humorous way about the continuity
of generations. As the priest spoke, Sharon held Jack on her lap.
While the rest of us were alone with whatever thoughts we had, Jack
wiggled and made raspberries at opportune moments. An example:
Rev. Mary: “So let us hear the word of the Holy Spirit…”
Jack: “Phttttt, phtt, Phttttt!”
Stifled giggles are the best ones, especially in a religious setting, but
it was not long before we were laughing out loud, and Mary too. Jack
had stopped the ceremony, and Mary wisely and eloquently seized the
moment to reflect on the importance of levity in accepting our fate in
God’s will.
All the while, Father’s ashes sat in a box on his gravesite, covered by
a velvet cloth, velvet because the box was not much to look at, just
cardboard. But worse, inside the box, Father was in a baggy. A
baggy!
I wanted to sprinkle some of the ashes in the waters off the Avila
Beach pier where Father kept his boat. This was his favorite place
outside home. My sister worried that the container was sealed (not a
ziplock), and seemed reluctant to break into it and did not want be
part of casting some of Father into the ocean. I didn’t know why and
still don't, but I did not want to force the issue. But Sharon
mentioned it to the priest, and she said that sounded like a good idea
and why don’t we open it up and get some ashes out. Hey, if the
priest says so!
So I called for Ric to use his pocketknife on the baggy, and someone
gave me a plastic container that just the night before had a frozen
Chinese dinner in it. We packed it with Father, and he rode with us
the rest of the day and into the next until we tossed him from the end
of the pier, after checking the wind. It felt just right, even though it
was not part of Father’s “wishes”. He wanted a simple ceremony “like
your mother’s”. But between Jack and me, we managed to hijack it a
little, and it pleased me.
Last year I became a grandfather. Now I am the family patriarch.
Momentous stuff. I am next in line for one of these ceremonies. My
instructions for wife or daughter will be as follows:
I leave it to you to decide how to celebrate my passing. You know me
in ways I can only guess. Satisfy your soul that you have sent me on
my way in a manner that pleases you. My spirit will smile upon you.
In Reply to: Ashes to Ashes posted by Jim H. [4759.2468] on January 13, 2006 at 07:11:51:
Hi Jim,
Love that grandbaby and spoil it.
Patriarchy is a big responsibility. Don't let any of the wild ones spit in your face, and if they do, love them anyway.
Life is a bowl of cherries...right Erma?
I don't know how your family will celebrate your passing, but you have left a wonderful legacy with your writing and I am sure lots of people will attend your funeral.
In Reply to: Ashes to Ashes posted by Jim H. [4759.2468] on January 13, 2006 at 07:11:51:
Jim H.
Your ramblings are sometimes very poignant, intense, and personal, and I enjoy them. I do hope that as the new "patriarch", you will keep/file/jot/archive these experiences on paper and keep them for the next rambler in the family to read and add to. I find in this age of technology that written words, held in our hands, by someone we love,a much more tactile comforting history lesson. I do hope that you and more people like you, leave your legacy behind for other family/friends to enjoy.
I'm sorry for your loss, and I celebrate your grandchild.
Have a beautiful day.
In Reply to: Ashes to Ashes posted by Jim H. [4759.2468] on January 13, 2006 at 07:11:51:
Jim,
When we are born, we are all without an organized religion to supposedly guide us through life. In other words we are pagans, I like to think I was born a Vedantist and will die one. The act of sending your father's ashes into the ocean truely describes our inherent lack of religion, but at the same time demonstrates our oneness with nature.
Both you and I have a propensity towards rambling. I will ramble now. We all accept water as an integral part of our life. Water, is a living organism. The water we drink and use today is the very same water that has been re-cycled over and over again since life began. Imagine if we could find a way to tap into the electricity of water and transfer the memory of water into readable bytes that we can comprehend! What a tale.
I applaud you for sending your father's ashes to the ocean. I know you will be a great grandfather and Patriach. I know I am a very good Matriach:-)
In Reply to: Ashes to Ashes posted by Jim H. [4759.2468] on January 13, 2006 at 07:11:51:
Dear Jim ~
You have a such a wonderful gift of defining the gray areas of life with your writings.
The definition of gray - did you see it?
In Reply to: Ashes to Ashes posted by Jim H. [4759.2468] on January 13, 2006 at 07:11:51:
Bless you, I am happy you did something for "you", afterall, funerals are for the living.
My Father was at the Battle of the Bulge, he was in the 378th, Headquartes company with the 95th division. I am so blessed to stiull have him with me and in fair health and spirits(we are laying a new wood floor at his house, between the two of us we compensate for the others lack of skill)
My Father too, insisted on "no fuss" over his passing. We have convinced him, however, to have his ashes spread on mothers grave, instead of "tossed in the dumpster"
Blessings to you and your family.
Penny
In Reply to: Re: Ashes to Ashes posted by lissa [2032.8] on January 13, 2006 at 07:47:29:
Thanks for the kind words, Lissa. Ms. Bombeck was right, but we
tend to forget sometimes, don't we?
In Reply to: Re: Ashes to Ashes posted by Tam [4744.1351] on January 13, 2006 at 13:22:06:
As a matter of fact, Tam, and thanks, I am in the process of compiling
the works for publishing a book. I am doing it privately through the
Lulu.com site, with my good friend, who is kind enough to do the
layout work for me. I agree it is good to have something to hold in
your hands, and maybe it is something Jack will like some day.
Jim
In Reply to: Re: Ashes to Ashes posted by Zarin [709.350] on January 13, 2006 at 15:54:55:
Hi, Moonflower! Good to see your words, and thanks for adding your
slant on things. Hope your life is going as well as your garden.
Jim
In Reply to: Re: Ashes to Ashes posted by ~CT [3862.2032] on January 13, 2006 at 18:15:47:
I am always pleased to see your words and response, ~CT.
Gray areas indeed. My hair and the ashes!...and perhaps my shrinking
gray matter.
My best to you.
Jim
In Reply to: Re: Ashes to Ashes posted by Penny [872.4] on January 13, 2006 at 20:00:31:
Thanks, Penny.
Father was a First Lieutanant in the 3rd Battalion, I Company, 395th
Infantry Regiment, 99th Infantry Division in Hofen, Belgium, the first
position along the line that did not collapse during the German
thrust. He said it was just because of where the attack was aimed,
not because they were any better than the rest...always humble, my
Father's generation. Later, with a battlefield promotion to Captain, he
was in a barn when an artillery shell hit the rafters. The other six
were killed, and his wounds kept him from the famous assault at
Remagan later, and perhaps saved his life.
I never heard about this until I was in my forties, when he began to
talk endlessly about the memories. He really needed to get it out. He
had held that intense experience inside for all those years, as most of
his generation did. Tough birds, those guys!
The intensity of combat burns memories into one's brain forever,
even minute detail. Father could remember the the names and
hometowns of guys who came in for only a day or two before they
were killed.
In the end, he was intensely proud of his service, as was my
grandfather who was gassed in the trenches of France many years
earlier. I have Grandpa's service parchment framed, a beautiful pen
and ink poster and document which will be displayed with Father's
stuff...if the remodel ever ends!
Jim
In Reply to: Re: Ashes to Ashes posted by Jim H. [4759.2468] on January 14, 2006 at 06:27:08:
Hi Jim,
Yes it's easy to forget. I've read all of Erma Bombeck's books (at least I think so, a few could have slipped past me though)
They always have me rolling on the floor. She is so funny and witty and every word is a true story.
In Reply to: Re: Ashes to Ashes posted by Jim H. [4759.2468] on January 14, 2006 at 06:59:58:
Treasure those memories. I am the baby of at least 7 children to my father(yup there was at least a son born in France that he has kept very quiet about).
The rest of the family has no tolerance to listen to dad tell and re-tell his Army past.
Most of Fathers recollections are delivered in a humerous manner( Like the time he and a buddy broke the line in their jeep and detoured to the side of the road to snatched up a watermellon to enjoy during the convoy. Hope it tasted good, as he was busted down from Sgt to Prvt for his tasty treat, not the only time he was to lose rank I might add.) Always underneath the humerous tone, you can see by the expression in his face, that there are other memories flitting through his mind that he is not sharing.
As with your Father.. the recollection of Names and hometowns of the others he fought with is AMAZING.
I could sit and listen for hours to all the "stories" and I have, and will do so with pleasure for as long as he is able to share.
I do feel that one day, the rest of my siblings will look back on the days when they hurried to find an excuse to leave the table when Dad would become a little nostalgic, and finally realize they missed something special. They Did.
In Reply to: Re: Ashes to Ashes posted by Jim H. [4759.2468] on January 14, 2006 at 06:36:52:
Hi Jim,
One of these days I promise to scan in pictures and send them to you. In November last year I did have a minor stroke, but then I had been anticipating this for over 20 years as I do have PSD and PCD, so in many ways it was rather a relief. Needless to say, I am back to living 25hours in 24:-))) Life will always be a leaky bucket, just have to keep the water running so the bucket is never empty!
In Reply to: Re: Ashes to Ashes posted by Penny [872.4] on January 13, 2006 at 20:00:31:
Penny, I like your dad's style. Sounds like he's his own man.
In Reply to: Ashes to Ashes posted by Jim H. [4759.2468] on January 13, 2006 at 07:11:51:
Jim, that must have been a day to remember. I've always hated funerals, so may I borrow Jack for the next one? I can't fathom a world without children, they have so many uses, lol.
I hope your father had the opportunity to meet
Jack before he died.
In Reply to: Re: Ashes to Ashes posted by Penny [810.4] on January 14, 2006 at 09:25:47:
I too relished hearing the stories, Penny, even late in Father's life
when he repeated so often, not just the stories, but everything.
And I have to laugh. I have no sibling in Europe, as far as I know, but
a few years ago, after her father had died, my wife got a surprise call
from a woman who claimed to be her half sister from Korea.
Sharon's family now includes this half sister and her father's former
wartime mistress, who now live in the U.S., both wonderful people. A
most improbable occurrence.
Jim
In Reply to: Re: Ashes to Ashes posted by Sally [1945.1192] on January 14, 2006 at 18:58:24:
Hi Sally,
Father did meet Jack, about two month before he died. I have two
photos of it I treasure and that Jack can ponder when he is older.
Jim
In Reply to: Re: Ashes to Ashes posted by Jim H. [4759.2468] on January 15, 2006 at 08:22:54:
What sweet stories....my dad died 14 yrs ago and was in the Korean War....and I only remember a few stories that he told...one was it was the coldest place he ever was and sad to watch the Korean children dig through trash cans trying to find something to eat. He never regretted fighting in that war nor was he afraid. He said that while he was there (Army...fought on the front line)...he knew that God was going to bring him safely home because he was the baby of 9 children and his dad had died and he was the only one to care for his aging mother and he was right.
Fond memories of his stories....Wished I could remembered all of them or paid more attention.
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