A Perfect Day for Hello and Goodbye

May 22: I could not have asked for a more perfect day to honor my dad and indirectly, my grandmother and grandfather. I can’t help but think they are smiling down at us because finally we are in the town where my dad grew up and meeting some of my grandmother’s family. It’s only taken 55 years and my father’s death to make this happen. But I don’t dwell on that. What’s important is that it’s happened.

There is so much to be grateful for today beginning with the Manchester Harbormaster who took five of us out to scatter my dad’s ashes on a cold, wet day.  He gave us a gift, a simple yet meaningful way to say goodbye.

Leaving the harbor my dad’s cousins, whom we’ve only just said our very first hellos too, point out family landmarks. This is where your father docked his lobster boat, this is the estate where your grandfather worked and where your dad grew up, your grandmother and I used to swim at low tide to this island.  The harbormaster adds his own stories and information about Manchester making the outing a memorial service and a tour of Manchester.  We select a spot mentioned in one of the few stories my dad shared about his childhood to release his ashes.  It is a spot where he and a friend often fished for lobster.

Next we visit the cemetery where my grandmother and grandfather are buried.  “We brought flowers,” one of the cousins share.  I’m imagining a bouquet that you pick up at the local grocery store and I think, how thoughtful.  Having visited few cemeteries in my life it didn’t even occur for me to do this.  From their car they pull out several nursery bought containers of red geraniums and other assorted flowers, a pail of planting soil, a shovel, gardening gloves, and a watering can.  We are going to plant a garden around the headstone and include in the dirt some ashes that I had set aside.  I am touched by this gesture more than I can say.

Finally we settle in for lunch at a place that one of the cousin’s says has local color and only fried food and is sometimes frequented by movie stars.  Turns out it is another restaurant featured in Guy Fieri’s Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives.  We settle in with our fried clams and seafood chowder to look at photographs and listen to stories about the family.

It is a lot to absorb in one day.  I’ll be lucky to remember a tenth of all the stories.  For a brief moment I feel the sadness of a loss that goes beyond my father.  For family I never knew, for family stories I never heard, for family history that will never be known.  My father may not have wanted to talk about his family, but my grandmother probably would have had I shown any interest.   Sadly that curiousity didn’t kick in until well after she was gone.   It passes quickly though because what’s done is done.  I remember instead the family that I met online in 2010 that I’m finally getting to embrace in a bear hug.  Our mutual desire to know one another is the biggest gift of all.

Photo courtesy of my brother