From the Ashes

Saturday, Max, his girlfriend, and I braved the hot afternoon sun and headed to the cemetery to meet with my brothers and their wives to inter my father’s ashes.  It was an anticlimactic affair. We did not arrange for a service or rent a chapel.

We dressed casually, so did my older brother and his wife. My younger brother, his wife, and my nephew dressed up in matching purple with dress shirts and ties.  I find my younger brother’s family odd. They go everywhere as a unit. They are vegans but not the healthy kind.  They put on more than a few pounds during the covid lockdown, except for my nephew, who is vegan and has celiac disease. I imagine he doesn’t eat anything at all.

It was close to 90 degrees outside, but the cemetery was busy. I found that unusual. Mostly, they look empty when you drive by. Seems people were dying to get in this one.  I don’t understand why. It is costly to place even ashes on the site. I told Max, “When I am dead, just cremate me and toss the ashes under the nearest tree.”

It cost $850 to open the wall. Considering it only takes a step ladder, screw drive, and caulk gun, I would do it for half the price. My older brother and his wife said a prayer as the granite faceplate was replaced. The rest of us just stood around awkwardly. My father might not have approved, but I don’t believe his life force is attached to those ashes.

The family wanted to eat at Oliver Garden after. I m not close to my brothers. Now that dad is gone, I will probably see them once a year or less. I cannot explain why. I am sure it has to do with the way we were raised. When we arrived at Oliver Garden, they told us it would be an hour and a half wait for a party of eight. So I opted not to stay. We stopped at the Dairy Queen drive-through on the way home instead.

Late Saturday night, Firefly stopped by to pick up the few things she left behind. She has been gone since we returned from our Soaring Eagle vacation. She was on a bender adding a synthetic Xanax her pseudo boyfriend get off the dark web to her usual mix of fentanyl and crack.  Firefly brought him with her. He was only moderately less high. The boyfriend doesn’t think he has a problem because he functions. If you consider being unemployed and having a suspended license functioning.

Firefly was too fucked up to drive. She was full of lies and looked like hell. She has since dropped off from posting on social media. I figure she is either dead or back in rehab. Firefly was looking to go to a place in Florida. I was disappointed in how she left things.

“Take your shit. I am done with you,” was the last thing I text her.