Tree
“Of course,” said the man in the sober suit, “we’ll take care of the arrangements for the cemetery, tombstone, and so on. This is a this trying time.”
Jake’s daughter looked out of the window behind the man.
Jake looked at his daughter.
- No cemetery pet. I don’t want a cemetery. Don’t let them dump me in a cemetery.
Jake was still unused to the glorious technicolor of his thoughts since his heart had packed in. It had been years since he had been so wondrously free of pain. Years since he had been able to think clearly without his damn body getting in the way and clouding everything. Only two days had passed since his astonishing voyage into the light, bright, crystal snapping clarity of the blue winter sky. Such relief.
Jake’s daughter thought for a moment. Only two days since she’d last seen her dad. She still saw him on the hill, his white hair wrapped the wrong way round his head by the wind. She still saw him down at the river seeing if his daffodils were coming up.
“The cemetery?” she said, her voice unsure.
- Not the cemetery pet, it would drive me up the wall.
“I don’t think the cemetery is the place for us. What are the alternatives?” she asked the sober suit.
The suit was slightly taken aback.
“Well, if it doesn’t upset you madam, there is always the possibility of cremation. We can organise that. And we can organise for the urn to be buried in the Garden of Remembrance,” said the suit, a solution to this trickier-than-usual client in sight.
- Oh no, pet, not a bloody Garden of Remembrance!
“Thank you, I think we’ll take the urn home. And bury the ashes. Without the urn. Would you like it back to use again?”
The suit faltered.
“Without the urn? And the tombstone? I’m afraid it’s not easy to have a tombstone erected on private property.”
- I don’t want a tombstone pet. I’ll go as I came, with no tombstone. I don’t want one”.
“We won’t have a tombstone. We’ll have something else. We’ll have…”
Jake’s daughter cast about in her mind for the mark her father would want to leave. She saw him outside, on the hill, in the field, by the river. Not inside, but outside on his beloved land.
- Look out of the window pet, it’s there in front of you.
Jake’s daughter looked out of the window.
“We’ll have a tree,” she said. “A tree. We’ll plant my dad and the tree together and he’ll flower every spring.”
The suit didn’t speak. He coughed and made a few notes.
Jake looked at this daughter, in whom he was well-pleased. And he moved on, far away.
That night Jake’s daughter dreamed of her dad, smiling, in a field of daffodils. And she knew that he was well pleased.
Jake’s daughter looked out of the window behind the man.
Jake looked at his daughter.
- No cemetery pet. I don’t want a cemetery. Don’t let them dump me in a cemetery.
Jake was still unused to the glorious technicolor of his thoughts since his heart had packed in. It had been years since he had been so wondrously free of pain. Years since he had been able to think clearly without his damn body getting in the way and clouding everything. Only two days had passed since his astonishing voyage into the light, bright, crystal snapping clarity of the blue winter sky. Such relief.
Jake’s daughter thought for a moment. Only two days since she’d last seen her dad. She still saw him on the hill, his white hair wrapped the wrong way round his head by the wind. She still saw him down at the river seeing if his daffodils were coming up.
“The cemetery?” she said, her voice unsure.
- Not the cemetery pet, it would drive me up the wall.
“I don’t think the cemetery is the place for us. What are the alternatives?” she asked the sober suit.
The suit was slightly taken aback.
“Well, if it doesn’t upset you madam, there is always the possibility of cremation. We can organise that. And we can organise for the urn to be buried in the Garden of Remembrance,” said the suit, a solution to this trickier-than-usual client in sight.
- Oh no, pet, not a bloody Garden of Remembrance!
“Thank you, I think we’ll take the urn home. And bury the ashes. Without the urn. Would you like it back to use again?”
The suit faltered.
“Without the urn? And the tombstone? I’m afraid it’s not easy to have a tombstone erected on private property.”
- I don’t want a tombstone pet. I’ll go as I came, with no tombstone. I don’t want one”.
“We won’t have a tombstone. We’ll have something else. We’ll have…”
Jake’s daughter cast about in her mind for the mark her father would want to leave. She saw him outside, on the hill, in the field, by the river. Not inside, but outside on his beloved land.
- Look out of the window pet, it’s there in front of you.
Jake’s daughter looked out of the window.
“We’ll have a tree,” she said. “A tree. We’ll plant my dad and the tree together and he’ll flower every spring.”
The suit didn’t speak. He coughed and made a few notes.
Jake looked at this daughter, in whom he was well-pleased. And he moved on, far away.
That night Jake’s daughter dreamed of her dad, smiling, in a field of daffodils. And she knew that he was well pleased.
by Moira Fraser
posted by Bhuidhe at
1:22 pm
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