[Magdalen] Floating ashes.

[James Oppenheimer-Crawford]

And here I was, expecting to hear the story of the spreading of the ashes
from an airplane (the air flow blows it all right back into the plane --
bummer), and finally the person is presented with a disposable vacuum
cleaner bad, with the words -- "Here ya go. And I am sorry for your loss.."

James W. Oppenheimer-Crawford
*“A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved,
except in memory. LLAP**”  -- *Leonard Nimoy

On Sun, Aug 14, 2016 at 6:46 PM, M J _Mike_ Logsdon <mjl at ix.netcom.com>
wrote:

> >>>A local crematorium has been running a helpful ad in the vicinity of the
> obits lately - "helpful tips", one of which was take the ashes out of the
> plastic bag and then put them back into the urn or container *before*
> having
> a burial at sea.... (otherwise they float : ( <<<
>
> I'm sure many long years ago I told this story, but it certainly bears
> repeating now.  It's about my "first funeral".
>
> I'd been ordained ORC for maybe a few weeks, maybe a couple of months,
> when a co-worker came in from a site visit at the Salinas Rivermouth with a
> "mystery!"  It was a bronze-looking square box she found floating in the
> water, not far from the ocean proper, that she said she was going to open
> up to see what was in it.  The people I was in a meeting with from our
> section, including our boss, all looked at black-shirted me (I was doing
> that; palm smack to forehead):  "Uh,... Mike?"  "It bodes ill, what
> ******** says...."  Said person went out to the back of the building with
> the box, and a hammer.  Soon, she came in to announce what she'd
> discovered.  It was placed in an empty file cabinet with little fanfare so
> as to not alarm the natives.  The next day, the head of our division at
> that time set aside some time for him, me, and the Unnamed for a "service"
> in his office.  I of course used a black stole (I was that way), and read
> every part of the St Joseph Missal that I could justify reading, only
> because I had no idea what this person had already had done, so I covered
> my bases.  Later, division chief went out back and riveted it shut again,
> AFTER filling it with rocks.  (It had probably been thrown in the ocean
> near the rivermouth, and simply floated back in.)  It was then presented to
> me in a paper sack for safekeeping at home in my altar (without my mother's
> knowledge; still paying alimony at that time), pending the return from a
> Fiji surfing vacation of our maintenance superintendent.  When he returned,
> I took him aside, and said "Rusty, I got a favor you need to do for me."
> My good-humored Japanese atheist friend said with a smile, "Sure Mike!
> Whadaya want me to do?"  A few days later, Russ paddled on his board about
> 500 yards out from the Moss Landing Jetty, and put our Unnamed friend into
> a proper, relatively permananent, watery resting place.  I'm sure s/he was
> looking down on it all, and hopefully smiling.  If not, hey, it was your
> own loved ones who thought tossing you into high tide at the Salinas
> Rivermouth was a good idea, not mine!
>