Finally Free

April 9, 2024

I found the perfect resting place for Dad. Craig Bay Rock, Vancouver Island, BC. 

As I walked down to the peaceful shore during low tide, I smelled the sea air heavy with salt. I saw a red boat sitting out in the water gently turning with the breeze. I thought, this would a place my Dad would like to try fishing. I would be dragged along to untangle the fishing line which happened every single time he cast the line and reeled it in.

As I walked, I was curious about all the white rocks on the shore. Come to find out, they were oyster shells. I started to see wild oysters stuck to the side on many of the rocks. I was amazed. I stopped to look at a solitary rock as if it were a beacon. That was Craig's rock. 

When I reached the end of the shore, I saw the shore dotted by resorts and I was reminded of how much Dad liked the ocean. He bought the condo in Oxnard to enjoy the sea air and have a tiny glimpse of the shore. I saw a nice flat rock with a few inches of water above it. I thought that would be a nice place to put a handful of his ashes so he could have a beach front view of the bay. I walked delicately on the sand to avoid crushing the tiny sea snails.

I continued to walk to Craig's Rock and then I saw more wild oysters and fingers of rock carved from high tide and low tide. The kelp was bright green and almost translucent. Every alcove was its own tide pool. As I looked across the bay, I could see the mainland. Vancouver BC was way over there. That's where Dad was born. And then I was reminded what a good swimmer my Dad was. He really was a good swimmer and he told me when he a youth in China, he would swim against the river's current for recreation. That way he could get in and out of the river in the same place. Smart.

I found a perfect finger tide pool that led out to the bay and decided to put all of my Dad's ashes there. A final resting place for him. So he could be where everything he ever enjoyed was. I watched his ashes fall to the bottom of the tide pool, some covering the kelp or sea anemones, and some of the ashes floated like oil on top of water. I thought, "Now you can see and swim to the mainland. You were always an adventurer and your journey hasn't stopped." 

I left and walked back a few times to remember where I put him. To see if he was still there, and he was. This was it, it was final. Eighteen years of carrying around his ashes, no more. I put down the honor of carrying his ashes in this place of peace. 

As I walked away from the shore, my eyes teared up just a tiny bit. I heard my father say, "Thank you. I am free. I can fly!" I could feel his spirit soaring. He was home again. Returned whence he came. Born a Canadian and laid to rest on his homeland. 

My attachment to his ashes partially trapped his spirit. When he died, his spirit should have been free to fly. We keep dead people's ashes and put them in walls to honor them and remember them. I kept him in a nice tea can on my shelf with some cherished gifts I gave to him. But I think I gave him the greatest gift by returning him to Mother Earth. 

Looking over my shoulder, I said " Swun Bo Ke" and then my voice crescendoed, "Swun Bo Ke!" When was the last time he heard his birth name in Chinese. A long time, and I was glad that I uttered it once more. 

I don't know if I will ever go back to Craig's Bay Rock. I trust he is very happy there, out of his body, and ashes freed.