Ashes to Ashes

This weekend I flew out west to help spread my father's ashes along Route 66, his favorite road. When he was much younger, he would travel the route to/from California and he loved those trips. My step-mom and her daughter chose a beautiful spot last weekend. I said a poem while my step-mom let most of the ashes fall to the earth from about 7,000 feet up. My step-sister's 19 year old son, my step-mom's brother, and Sporty were with us. As the ashes were going and I was emotionally reading a poem she selected about death, my step-mom stepped in a huge puddle and started swearing and that's how most of that went. 

Then she stopped and I noticed that there were still ashes in the bag. Honestly, she would just throw them away. So, I took the bag, went to the side rail, and started just talking to my dad as the remainder of his ashes went with the wind and down to the trees and earth. He would have loved where he is at: 

I know that our choice to donate his body to cancer research took most of his tissue and organs. I'm glad they cremated and sent us what was left to give back to the beauty of the earth!

Being here, though, is not so peaceful. I suppose I should find my serenity in knowing it is most likely my last time here. My stepmother actively chose to prefer to give anything that she wants to give away of my father's to her family and not to me. She would not part with anything of his that would be a family heirloom of my dad's as I am rightfully the next generation of his family. 

Examples such as his bar mitzvah book filled with my family members, his bar mitzvah ring, his yamikah that he has worn since boyhood, pictures of my grandparents, his work awards or desk nicknacks (many he has had since before marrying her), watches, etc. everything. She will either keep it, give it away to someone else, or dump it - but she refuses to give me anything personal of my fathers.

Two weeks ago, she called and said she had a watch and tie of my grandfathers to give me. Now she says she cannot find them. They were given to my dad. Now they were going to go to me. Gone.

I am leaving with some old sweaters and tshirts. She was giving all his clothes away and I insisted I go through them. She was annoyed but I didn't care. They have no value to her - tshirts and sweaters. They certainly are not family heirlooms. I just could not handle leaving with nothing of my father's. 

I know I have memories. I certainly want no money. I just wanted those things that should pass down in the family to stay in the family. I'm his daughter and I'm mourning him too. I know she misses him but things like his bar mitzvah book are filled with my ancestors and belong with my family. Her answer was this, "I'm not giving it to you." My thoughts were, "I shouldn't even have to ask."

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. As tears have fallen so many times from my eyes this weekend, I can only thank god that my father is not here to witness how awful his wife is upon his death. I know he loved me and I know he would want what is right. He may be ashes on the earth today. I may be leaving here tomorrow morning. Somehow, someday, I will make sure most his belongings are back with our family.