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Back Home at Sea

My daughter and I sat in the front of the boat. The weather was perfect today on the water. Not too hot, and a steady breeze blowing across the Pacific. The Captain was a gentle, older man in his 60s with sun-kissed skin from many, many years spent outside. We rented his vessel to do the final, (and only!) thing that My Captain wished to have done with his ashes. “I’m sorry for your loss” he mumbled softly as he untied the boat and off we went.

We motored slowly down past the pier. My daughter hasn’t smiled- really smiled- since Daddy’s physical form passed 16 days ago. But today, out on the water, I saw her whole face light up at last. Sea otters tumbled around the bay as if showing off for the people watching from the pier. We pointed out sea ducks, pelicans, and even fat sea lions who were laying in lazy piles on the large, metal buoys. “And on your right you’ll notice a large pack of what’s called homo sapiens” the Captain said suddenly. I began to giggle. “They often congregate in large packs and prefer fermenting liquids which they drink to encourage mating behavior” he continued. At that comment, I lost it and belly laughed. It felt so good to laugh again. I have no doubt that Daddy was with us chuckling along as well.

As we got out into more open waters he cranked up the engine and off we zoomed over the water. With the urn in my hands we glided along towards a private cove, aptly named “Pirate’s Cove”, where we would scatter Daddy’s ashes. My sweet Pirate Cappy, oh how I miss you every second of everyday. I turned my face to the sun and sighed. Eventually he slowed the boat to a stop and we bobbed along on gentle waters. I stood up and unscrewed the lid. “Remember” Daddy had said to me this morning as we spoke in spirit, “this is not me. I’m right here with you”. It was everything I needed to hear.

And yet, his ashes were soft white like snow. Pure white… like the kind, loving, gentle man that he is.

As they began to flow into the Pacific Ocean I watched them create a long, white trail that seamlessly flowed into endless blue water. It was as if (at last) his physical form could rest in peace. “Thank you” I heard Daddy whisper in my mind. Scattering his ashes at sea was everything he had wanted and what we had discussed before any of this happened. “For you, anything” I mumbled to the waves.

Having those “God forbid, what if–” conversations with your partner is never easy, but I have to tell you that despite the grief, agony, and utter heartache I’m going through, I’m deeply thankful that Daddy and I had that conversation. I knew that he wanted to be cremated. I knew that he wanted “The Parting Glass” by The High Kings to be played. And that was it. He’s a simple man with simple needs even in his physical passing.

As I laid down this afternoon to rest I let out a heavy sigh. “How did I do, Dada?” I asked aloud and then closed my eyes to meditate and listen.

“I’m proud of you, baby girl” I heard him reply. I smiled and drifted off to sleep.

Until next time. x

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