After painstakingly searching and browsing and poking around the internet for weeks last summer, I had ordered this box on Etsy in October and had to rush expedite it, paying extra for it to be finished in time to be shipped to Linda for the original date. And then everything got rescheduled, so she had the box on her bookshelf this whole time.
A mark of how we procrastinate, it costs us, but in the end it coulda just been done plenty further in advance. Not like we didn't know he was gonna need it, right? Anyway. It is beautiful and I felt kind of shitty thinking about how such a beautiful piece would be in the ground. But it was for him. And worth it.
Linda and I got together Saturday morning and finished putting the things in the box.
Since Dad died, I've been thinking of this song by World Party. The refrain goes:
Put the message in the box, put the box inside the car, drive the car around the world, until you get heard."
But I've been singing:
"Put the dad inside the box, put the box inside the car, drive the car around Huntington, until you get to the cemetery then put him in the ground and be done."
The ending doesn't exactly fit the original but I make myself laugh. That's all that matters, right?
Linda wanted to put some more things in the box, I questioned whether we were allowed to do it, because the instructions from the cemetery were stern and bossy about not putting things in and not mixing ashes, and.... Linda said "what are they going to do, take him out and throw him out? People are buried all the time with extra stuff, wearing jewelry and trinkets from the kids, no one is going to be mad." She's right.
We took the plastic bag out of the plastic green container from the crematorium in Massachusetts. The bag was a lot heavier than I thought it would be, so it was a little surprising. It fit inside the wood box perfectly, a perfect rectangle after sitting in the original container for so long.
She added some quahog shells, dad always loved the ocean and the beaches. And she put some photos into the box in a ziplock bag. We sealed it back up and he was ready to go.
Lin, Jess, and I left early to drive dad around town. We went past our old apartment, past the shops and stores and places he used to hang out. Linda was narrating, mostly for Jess' purposes I think. We went by the hospital where he was born (and where we were born," past the house he grew up in down in Halesite, back around the fire station, they are tearing up everything back there to put in better ... something. So there was no way to get out and set him on the railing at the doc and stay for a minute. Around Mill Dam, over to the Valencia, and then over to the cemetery.
I would have liked to stop and get out at some places and take a picture of his box around town. On the steps up to our old apartment, the harbor, the bull at the Valencia, but we were on schedule and had to be at the cemetery by 10:30am. We arrived with a minute to spare.
Some folks had already arrived, which was nice. Our bagpiper got there and was ready to roll. Somehow when he and I started chatting we got on the subject of Ben Franklin, of all things. There was another service happening in another area and the funeral director was handling the paperwork and stuff there. Our service was scheduled for 11, and we started walking to the grave site in order to get Shirley situated in time.
C had sent a beautiful arrangement for the cemetery, and Linda and I hadn't really planned anything, we didn't realize how just right it would be to have something. We thought about going to the supermarket like we did in Massachusetts and just getting something whipped up to set on the ground, but this was a very nice touch.
Thank you C.
Since we were doing our tour of town, taking Dad to all the old hot spots in the Village, I reached out to our cousin Joey and asked him to stop by the supermarket on his way to get white flowers. Linda asked for carnations and after a bit Joey checked back in and said, "they're not carnations, but they're close, is that alright?" Yes. It is perfect. Bless bless, dear Joey.
They had no table, which was okay. They'd dug up the spot and put one of those green carpets over the plot so you knew where things were happening. We set the box in front of the headstone, and the priest and funeral director came over and things got started.
It was a short and very nice service. Sometimes when you're dealing with a priest who doesn't know your family, you really should have a meeting beforehand to talk about the decedent and what the family is like.
He talked about how growing up, Bart would have learned to mind his Ps and Qs, which we all chuckled a little bit at, and how over the many years he imparted so much wisdom to us. I heard some chuckles at that too. Dad was not really a wisdom imparter. But we appreciated the sentiment. He used the phrase over and over that we will be reunited, and every last tear would be wiped away.
We concluded things with the tossing of the little white flowers, and people started peeling off to head to the party. Mom walked a different route to the front of the cemetery office, which was much closer to where we were standing than the cars were.
I grabbed Linda for a little photo shoot. We wondered if we should stand there until the cemetery dudes came to put the box into the little box already in the ground and seal it up, but the Funeral director said usually the family doesn't stand there for that. We should go. So we did.
My cousin Jimmy told me later that he and his son, cousin Joey, and another friend of Jimmy's named Jimmy all had gone on a little walking tour of the family plots around the property and came back around as the urn was being placed. Jimmy's friend Jimmy (which is fun to say, like he has no identity other than Jimmy's friend Jimmy) said that he'd been carrying around a little silver shamrock in his pocket for 20 something years. He asked if he could put it in on top of the box and they told him he could.
To be honest, I don't really know this person - I've seen him at gatherings at my cousin's house over the years, but that thought took my breath away a little. What a sweet gesture for my dad. To give up something he'd basically been carrying around his entire adult life. I'm just kind of gobsmacked by that generosity. I hope to get to thank him.
Over to Finnegans, where we'd booked the place for 3 hours to just have it all to ourselves. When the open bar tab is more than the food costs, you know you're at one of our fetes.
We had a great time, the piper played indoors a few songs. He stayed and drank Guinness after Guinness (which is low ABV at 4%, so that's okay). He was talkative and friendly, and treated us to extra tunes beyond what I think we paid for.
I had a blast with my cousin' George's daughter (2nd cousin?) Kaycee, who brought her boyfriend (oh hello welcome to our family shenanigans!) and he was delightful. We had all kinds of music playing and Kaycee and I sang "The Weight" by The Band (which is my favorite song by The Band).
Our party wrapped up, I was helping clean up (like I do) and bus tables and help move things around for the start of regular business. Doug took the boy and Shirley back to the hotel. Shirley was wiped out, this was a lot on her. We ended up staying longer, time with the family is a precious commodity.
Got back to the hotel, got Linda to her room. I came up at about 7 something and took a nap. Doug was already napping but when he woke up, he and Geoff went out and got subs (didn't get me or Jess anything because they thought we were asleep for the night but. Hmm. You come back in the room, drink beer, eat subs, watch hockey and I'm asleep for the night? No.) I was a little perturbed but too lazy to go downstairs to the restaurant and order anything. So I watched hockey, and went back to sleep eventually.
Pictures below: mom and some of our ladies. Below, Tommy (the Finnegan's Manager) and my parents from a couple years back. Not exactly sure of the date. But they go way, way back as friends. Digits below pics.
digits:
exercise: 12/12 hours of 250 steps; no measurable exercise but on the feet all day and a nice walk around the block in H'ton to get some fresh air; 7k steps by bedtime
blood glucose:
9am: 160
xpm: n/a
10pm: 146
food:
coffee/water
times all approximate
12:30pm: 3 pigs in blankets, a buffalo chicken tender, a slice of quesadilla.
approx 2pm? 2 good sized pieces of chicken francese, large helping of salad; Metformin
about 6 beers over 4 hours
no dinner, too tired to eat
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