Guerilla grave tending

It's been nearly a year since my father passed away. Damn but time flies.

The anniversary of his death, too near my birthday at the end of November usually means miserable cold weather. The weather between Autumn and Winter. Wet, cold and lacking both the cheer of snow or the beauty of Fall colored trees.

Rather than wait, I paid respects yesterday. It was cloudy but unseasonably warm, the day was open. Coincidence it came on All Souls Day/Day of the Dead/Samhain.

Turns out the spot looks lovely in Autumn. Next year I need to get down a little earlier, perhaps. Some of the trees had already dropped all their leaves, but there was still enough nice color to go around.

Lovely spot come Autumn.

Then I swung up to my great-grandfather's grave (same cemetery.) It is a shared plot with other past family members - great-grandmother, a grand uncle & a grand aunt. Unfortunately, their stone is a flat-in-the-ground style. Entropy had set in. Names were occluded by growth. (I need to come by more often. I probably will now that my father is buried there.)

Anyway - the humorous part comes here. I came unprepared for a grave cleaning. I had no gloves, and my pocket knife just wouldn't do the job. I could come back later, but I really wanted to do something then & there. I thought to myself, "Is there anything in the car I can use to take care of this now?"

Yeah. I keep an entrenching tool (collapsible spade) in the trunk for emergencies.

So, there I was, walking around the graves, with shovel in hand.

Glad no one called me out on it. Could have been awkward ;)

Sometime you bring roses. Sometimes you bring a shovel. Sometimes both.

I think I can generate a few short stories out of the experience. :)

(I'll get back in the Spring, bring a kit and do a proper job.)

And we'll see no more of giants

What is death but a traversing of eternities and a crossing of cosmic oceans?

 - Robert E. Howard

Most of people I am in touch with via social media are aware, but if anyone hadn't heard yet - my father, Richard McNamee, passed away on Wednesday morning.

He was 83. The only way I can describe it was that it was medically unexpected, but in hindsight, there were signs & portents. A few coincidences, and he seemed to get more serious about being prepared for such an event over the past year. Whether he just knew the odds or something was guiding him - well, that's all to what and how much you believe. 

He was in the hospital for other ailments - none which were thought to be critical. We were assured that his heart was strong through all of it. But, there must have been a blood clot lurking. The nurse told my mother that he was in good spirits one moment and then gone (heart attack) the next.

Folks have been asking after us and our Mom. I'd say we're okay as can be expected. My Mom is the most stoic person I think any of us know. As stunned by his death as we might be, we are all equally stunned by her unwavering, unblinking acceptance that my father is with ancestors and passed friends now. And she is "thrilled for him" that he went suddenly and didn't linger.

I also know that yes - he died the day before Thanksgiving and the day before my birthday, it could be a very dark time. But thankfully, my head isn't going there. I consider the birthday a passing of the torch, and Thanksgiving for his long life and everything he gave us.

We're waiting on final obituary proof and I can link to that once it gets published. And also, as time goes own, share happier stories of his life.

His wake & funeral will be combined affair on Tuesday morning.