The fortieth day
In comparison to all the other ceremonies we’ve done these past two months, this was quite quick. My family, along with a handful of his best friends and colleagues, were brought over to the small plot where his sturdy box would be buried. A deacon came over and led a brief prayer service, particularly reminding my Mom, sister and me to “hold onto the good times.” Then, we watched as in less than twenty minutes, cemetery workmen laid my Dad’s cremains underground, and filled the plot with dirt. Unfortunately my Dad’s tombstone wasn’t ready yet, but we laid fresh roses and sunflowers on top anyway.
Though I cried a little because of how much I’ll always miss him, a greater part of me was relieved, even happy. Now I have a place where I can “visit” him, and have him to myself if I need to. We have a shrine-like area in our living room with pictures of him surrounded by a cross and flowers, but usually my relatives and my Mom are in front of it praying that I never really stop by. Plus, at home it’s easy to be distracted by the Internet and by housework, so to be able to go somewhere quiet to reflect is all I really need.
Sometimes it weirds me out to think that my Dad is gone. We actually kept the box of his cremains in our house before the ceremony, and to see this ten pound box as the sum of my Dad’s physical presence was very surreal. As in, really? This is what our lives will lead to after we’ve reached (or not reached) the goals we wanted to reach; fallen in love and settled down; have as many adventures as we’re allowed to have-this is it? A life gone, just like that. Death is passing strange.
As my birthday proved last week, the rough times are still coming full speed ahead, since the first year, they tell me, is tough because it’s the first of everything. The first birthday, the first Christmas, the first Thanksgiving, the first death anniversary…the list goes on and on, and even more so for my sister and me, because our Dad died so incredibly young. We're going to go through a lot more milestones in our lives without him. But-I know for sure we’ll be okay. We may have our meltdowns and stressful moments, but then all we have to do is think of what our Dad would do, or counsel us to do. He’s not here, but he’ll always be with us.
