peitience is a virtue

It was late morning on Friday when my sister, mom, godmother, dad’s caretaker, and I went to the funeral home to pick up my dad’s ashes. We brought him home and were ready to take him out of the box and set up him up in the room my dad had dedicated to his parents. We had already set up all the flowers from the memorial in the room. The room looked beautiful covered in flowers. The room smelled like a rose garden. It was like we had brought nature inside, which would have made my dad happy since he always had a thing for gardens. 

I opened the cardboard box to see a black plastic box. My godmother and I agreed that the black plastic box was probably just another container for the bronze urn we wanted for my dad. I noticed the black box had a lid on one end. I was nervous yet excited as I pulled on the lid. 

It came off.

I was confused. I did not see a bronze urn. In fact, I saw nothing but the sealed plastic bag that contained my dad’s ashes!! OH THE HORROR. Can you imagine?! I mean my dad had always told me he wanted to be cremated, but I never expected to SEE those cremains. 

HOLY CRAP.

I was freaking out. What was this!??? I called the funeral home and they said to their knowledge we had not decided on an urn. Impossible! My mom said she went in twice to double check the urn! I was upset and shaking with anger. I told the guy “I cannot have my dad in a plastic box!!” He told me to come back sometime and they will order an urn for us, to which I hotly responded, “I am coming back right. now!!!” 

Fast forward an hour. We arrived back home having picked out the bronze urn we had originally wanted. My mom and an aunt had originally decided to change the praying hands decal to a flower. However, this time my sister and I were there and we decided to not have a flower, and to have my dad’s name and “a loving dad” etched onto it instead. 

My dad’s caretaker laughed. She said this was probably all my dad’s doing. He wasn’t happy with the urn that was originally picked out for him. Somehow he had interfered even though my mom had picked out the urn twice, and in the end it was my sister and I that made the final decision. My dad’s caretaker said that this was probably what my dad wanted; he wanted his daughters to pick out his urn. 

Then I laughed, too. I knew my dad loved jokes and getting a good laugh. I figured he probably got a good laugh at my face when I opened the plastic box to see his ashes instead of an urn. Thanks a lot, dad.  Glad to know you’re still laughing at me, even from heaven. =_=