Dad’s family was going to mourn and miss him whether he liked it or not! Besides, he wouldn’t be here, so what did he care if we had a headstone or memorial marker or not?
I suggested instead of him looking at it as a constant reminder that he was gone and us blubbering over our loss of him; what if he were to consider a memorial as a symbolic acknowledgement of his life lived here on earth?
Silence. That look. Okay, I get it, discussion over.
Sometime later, Dad did something very thoughtful for me. To “mark” his time here on earth…he gave me his beloved wrist watch. This timepiece was his personal way he wanted me to remember him and our time together.
So it’s my gesture to Dad that when I wear this heirloom every now and then, it’s my personal reflection on his life lived, not passed. A watch ticks through time in the present and it’s in the time of now, that his presence is with me.
Dad, you are a man worth remembering, blubbering and all. You got your way, and you gave me mine too. His final wishes were honored. No headstone. But, yes, Dad did have a memorial service with family and friends who gathered to celebrate him.
So get this, not long after my Dad’s passing, the funeral home where his ashes were interned burnt down. Hmmm, crazy right? When was there a time that you recall something like this happening? I never have.
Dad’s cremated remains were displayed in a Memorial Room which went unscathed in the fire. Ironic.
Sometime later, a funeral attendant recounted family scattering Dad’s ashes at another location.
So is that it? With no formality of a memorial urn anymore, has my father’s legacy set with the sun?