MY FATHER’S body
Is ashes now…I had to fax a note to Nakamura’s mortuary. It said this “This note authorizes Nakamura’s mortuary to creamate the body of Walter McAnally.”
I spelled cremate wrong.
That is so far the only part that I have in the transition of his body to spirit.
The last time I held his hand was in August. Brad and I flew to him, he said he was sick so we went to see him. He would not tell us what was wrong, mumbled something about Rehad, needing to get off of the sauce. He could not drink and live at the same time.
Apparently the drink was more important than his life.
I am so glad that I followed my gut and said goodbye. When I drove away from his Lahaina house, I knew that it was goodbye. His closest companion didn’t seem to think
So, his boss seemed to think he would choose to live somehow.
Oh crap, this story is probably going to far.
But you can see friends who requested that I update my blog, that grief has anger in it too.
It sucks to be angry at someone who is gone. I know, I know, it is part of grieving but it still sucks.
I know my body relives the first abandonment at 3 years old when my mother left him, and he fled to Maui. I didn’t see him for 15 years…I don’t remember that 3 year old me and the grief that must have generated.
But I feel it, somewhere it is buried in me, it is resurfacing.
And I think that is Universal, when someone dies, all the unfinished business, all of the memories, good and bad come up. The “proper” thing is to let go and remember only the good, to smile and cry and grieve the loss of the person. The truth is though that you are grieving your own personal losses, every one of them comes up again.
The losses are like a can of shaken soda, the cap comes off and the bubbles explode out.
All of the emotions, the good, the bad and the ugly…