Seven Years Went By
How do I explain the fact that over seven years passed between the time I promised to bury my father at sea (and hid half his cremated remains in my wife's canning pot) and the time I packed his ashes into a wooden boat, motorcycled over 2,000 kilometres to Halifax and tossed the boat into the Atlantic Ocean? I say, with some difficulty and embarrassment, and a complicated Venn diagram.
Some may ask, "Did you just forget the promise?"
The answer to that question is no. I did leave my father's ashes inside a canning pot for many years but soon after he was buried in Norwich I began to educate myself about how to bury a person at sea. I will share here some of what I recall from visits to various sites on the internet.
First, there were at the time (2003 - 2004) burial services offered associated with the Royal Canadian Navy and some other private enterprises. Their services required, in part, that I ship ashes to a registered pastor on Canada's west coast, then later fly to Canada's east coast when notified of the burial date, board a ship, go out to sea, take part in a prepared service, and, at the conclusion, be content with a commemorative map of the location of burial.
Second, as I recall now from imperfect memories, most of what I read and learned left me dissatisfied, especially since, without great effort and expense, no member of my family would ever be able to visit the burial site in the future. So, disgruntled, I likely shut off the computer and went for a long run to clear my mind. And by long run I mean an 8 or 10 or 20-mile-long haul in preparation for an upcoming marathon.
I think it is worth mentioning here that I was a long-distance runner from 1995 to 2006. Until my last marathon in the city of Boston in April, 2005, a good deal of my spare time over the course of about ten to eleven years was spent running here, there and everywhere in preparation for half- and full-marathons and the like.
[At the finish line in Boston, 2005]
As well, once I retired from teaching in June, 2002, I increased the intensity of my running schedule, because of an unshakeable desire to qualify for the famed Boston marathon. That being said, I also found time to write a weekly column for a local community newspaper (and, like running, for a period of about ten years), from the fall of 2002 to the summer of 2012. And, as the busy-ness of my running routine tapered off after the 2005 Boston event and my interest in writing solidified, two other activities began to make more demands on my time.
I bought a small motorcycle in 2004 (250cc Suzuki), with help from the wages and tip money I earned at a local coffee shop, and worked my way up - as I travelled more miles annually and as my confidence in motorcycling grew - to somewhat larger and larger bikes until I purchased my current bike (1100cc Yamaha) in 2009, upon which I've biked to Halifax twice, the first time to bury my father at sea in 2010.
[I motorcycled to the East Coast in 2010 and 2014]
[I spend productive hours inside the workshop each week]
[A complicated Venn diagram with a few busy facts of life]
Somewhere along the way I took an hour off from my various activities, cleaned out the dirt-floor garage attached to my house and created a small woodworking shop. I purchased a variety of saws, hammers, nails, lumber and a lathe and tried my hand at a number of woodworking projects, and to this day spend almost as many hours per week in my shop as I do on a few other activities combined.
Admittedly, forgetfulness may in fact be a factor as I try to explain a seven-year-long delay in fulfilling a promise to my father. But in 2010, a month before I biked to Halifax, I designed and assembled my first wooden boat, one that is likely still on its lengthy first and final voyage in the Atlantic Ocean.
More to follow.
[Time passes like a silent river]
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