I had a chance to scatter his ashes today and I am overwhelmed with emotions. I remember everything that happened. I remember so much. I went through so much pain watching my father die. I was close to him. I lived close and I spent time with him. I got to know my father so much, more as a friend than as a father.
Merle Smith is responsible for my love of classical music, jazz music, buddhism, tarot, British humor, strange films, and a plethora of other things that I barely think about, but are so much of who I am.
So I left the last of his earthly remains behind. He has been in spirit for so long that I know this action was more for me than anyone else. I needed to let go of that. Those ashes were holding me down, keeping me from moving forward. The ashes were like a monument for how I haven't grieved the death of my father, a reminder that things weren't freaking done yet. There was still more to accomplish before I can finally leave this behind.
My dad knitted, he did needlepoint (he actually did a huge rug that he modeled after a piece of Indian art). He read a lot. He read more than I could ever dream of reading.
he liked sports a lot, which I never shared with him. If anything I think my absolute disinterest in anything sports-related is attributable to him ALWAYS watching sports!!!!!
And in the spirit of creativity, I continued.
I'm going to keep going on this. I'm getting pretty good at the circles.
It's got holes and stuff and I'm sure I'm messin' somethin' up!
:)
We'll figure this out. My teacher Stacey Trock promises me that this is easy! EASY I TELLS YA!
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