He Would Have Been Seventy

Today is my husbands birthday. Seven years ago today he left for hockey. One of his many weekly games with the old guys. I was sitting in this very chair when he left as I read my book and had my morning coffee. Hockey was an obsession for him. Our lives revolved around his hockey. Holidays were short because he didn’t want to miss his games. One hundred days later he died from pancreatic cancer. Every year we celebrate his life together or apart in various ways. This year my daughter and son are going to spread some ashes.

Years ago my daughter was selling her house. Her friend, a realtor, told her she had to lose the dead people. There was a table with pictures of all the people my youngest daughter had lost in her short life. It is a beautiful tribute but it doesn’t sell a house. When my infant son died in 1999 his ashes were put on a shelf right beside my reading chair. He was surrounded by the many angel figurines people gave me. One day a grandchild broke one and so I threw it away. Eventually a few more found their way out of the house. Their time and their purpose was done. It was time.

Fast forward a decade and our family dog Ike died. He was my husbands faithful friend for sixteen years. He could be found sleeping right beside my husband, Ike’s favourite human. I don’t think there was ever a dog loved more than Ikey. But time took its toll and soon Ike was blind. Money was no object for my husband when it came to Ike. He even had a cornea transplant. When asked my opinion about that I smiled and said of course we have to do it. Inside I thought my husband was a nutcase. Then Ike lost his hearing and eventually had a stroke. And so it was time and the vet came to our house to put him down. They took him away on his bed and his ashes were returned. His little box of ashes took their place beside my son with his collar on top.

When my Mom died the funeral home mixed her ashes with those of my Dad and after her funeral, we all set out to spread the two of them in a place that meant so much to them. It was a sombre moment as we said our last good-byes. Each of their children were going to go up with their own families and toss ashes into the air. My oldest brother, along with his family took the first turn. Well…it was a bit windy and they were facing the wrong way. There was my brother and his kids and grandkids, being sprayed with the ashes of our parents. Ya gotta admit, it was pretty funny. The rest of us took our turn facing the other direction. But the only thing I remember from that day was my brother, the new patriarch of the family, doused in ashes.

I had my husband cremated when he died. His ashes have been sitting on our dresser in the bedroom for the last seven years. His urn doesn’t fit on the shelf. Recently I have been thinking about my own future. One filled with stuff that my kids will have to get rid of. The cherished memories and things we keep though sentimentality are just things. I don’t want that burden on my kids. Because what they will cherish is mainly the memories. And the things they want aren’t what we think they want. They want what will trigger good memories. My son has my husbands watches. My daughter has his original Jim Zorn Seahawks jersey from 1976. I wonder about the ashes. What happens to them when I am gone. Whose “dead people” shelf will they sit on. Will I be the nest big urn to be dusted every week. And so a decision was made. Time to spread the ashes.

When I first suggested this to my daughter I told her I wanted to mix the ashes of my husband and son along with Ike the dog. She laughed and though it funny that I was going to mix in the dog. But I have to tell you, that dog was family. Another son. And it just meant sense. Honestly I can think of nothing more fitting as a send off for my husband than to have him with the ashes of those two. A man and his son and his dog. Together on the farm and together for eternity. How beautiful is that? I know he would have said it was weird, but I know inside he would have loved the idea.

My husband grew up on a small farm with a creek. Although their life was chaotic and dysfunctional, his best memories were from those early years. The freedom to run and play. Time with his Dad. Sleepovers with his Granny who lived nearby. His Cousin bought the land many years ago and her home is now where Granny’s once stood. And so today we are going to where his life began. Full circle so to speak. There will be many memories for me there as well. My teen years had me at many an outdoor party at that farm. My husbands family had moved to town and as Granny’s home fell into disrepair, the older cousins down the road used her place to have huge raging parties. I’ll be reliving those days today. Two of the cousins still live on the land. One was my Dad’s secretary for a time. She was a shining star in Dad’s eyes. So today we will have a visit with the girls. Tell some stories and share some laughs and some tears. We will drive away feeling an emptiness of sorts but as I gaze in the rearview mirror I will see them together roaming that farm. A man and his son and their dog,