A Promise to Fulfill Pt 4: Score one for the good guys

As early as the mid-1980s, I knew my father was very interested in being buried at sea.

His years in the Canadian Merchant Marine meant a lot to him and I bet he and his navy buddies talked about the war years with great passion at their annual reunions.

Though he was a force to be reckoned with, I bravely offered the notion that there were disadvantages of being buried at sea (i.e., the difficulties related to visiting him) while discussing details related to my mother’s gravestone in early 2001.

And I mentioned - ever so gently, while riding down a peaceful country road - he might want to think about being buried beside his wife. (Link to Pt. 3)


After posing the idea I dropped him off at Parkwood Hospital, his place of residence at the time, and said I’d see him “same time next week.”

I sat on pins and needles for seven days wondering how he would respond to my suggestion.

When the following Saturday arrived I picked him up a few minutes before 1 p.m. (If I was a few minutes late he could usually be seen waiting - fairly patiently - just inside the front door of his building.

We drove to the Tim Horton’s at Commissioners Rd. and Adelaide to pick up coffees and were soon following our noses along quiet country roads south west from London.

I don’t recall exactly where we were when he offered his thoughts about his own burial plans, i.e., at sea, or beside his wife, but I was prepared for either answer.

Eventually he turned toward me and said, “I think I’ll be buried in Norwich too, beside Edith.”

I thought several things but said only one.

I thought it was a very good idea. His remaining family and friends would have a place to go to see his name engraved in stone, know he was near and remember what he meant to them.

I thought mother would be delighted.

Months before, before one of their last visits together, I knew she had been very insecure (in part due to Parkinson’s disease no doubt) about her relationship with dad. She felt she hadn’t seen dad in a long time and needed to know, somewhat desperately, that he still loved her.

With him beside me in the car, having made his decision, perhaps she began to clap her hands, or sang a wee song.

At the time, all I said was, in as encouraging a tone as possible, “I think that’s a very good decision.”

A weight was certainly taken off my shoulders.

During the one hundred or more car rides together before he passed away, I was careful never to mentioned burial at sea again, and because our relationship was pretty warm, at no time did I ever think there was something left unresolved between us.

Little did I know.

***

A Promise to Fulfill - Please click here to read Part 1.

Please click here to read Part 5.

.