A place for healing

I would have taken today's Sunday walk at Japanese Gulch anyway because I'm avoiding my usual spot for a few weeks during mosquito season, but today I had a task to accomplish. As my dad's obituary was being distributed in today's paper back home, I was looking for just the right spot to put my share of his ashes when it arrives.

I'm agnostic and don't believe in a spiritual plane or anything of that nature, but I also like to operate with a "just in case" point of view. And whether or not there could ever be any sort of awareness for the deceased party, I still think it's beautiful to burn down their earthly remains to the smallest amount possible that can be distributed somewhere that holds meaning to them, the person doing it, or both.

My dad never made it up to Everett, having only come to Seattle just after my mom died and once more when I got married. Coming here changed my life for the better in so many ways, but one thing I had to deal with in the process was healing again after the move into our house made my back pain return, as bad as ever. It took lots of yoga at home to make the physical healing occur, but mentally it happened for me as I spent months exploring Japanese Gulch every chance I got.

I still treat it as a place of reflection and healing, which is why I'll take some of my dad's remains to the creek that runs through it down to the sound. I'll never get to show him this important place, but he'll be part of it forever.

It'll come as no surprise that I'm also getting a memorial tattoo, but I'll talk about that once I have it.

A place for healing

I would have taken today's Sunday walk at Japanese Gulch anyway because I'm avoiding my usual spot for a few weeks during mosquito season, but today I had a task to accomplish. As my dad's obituary was being distributed in today's paper back home, I was looking for just the right spot to put my share of his ashes when it arrives.

I'm agnostic and don't believe in a spiritual plane or anything of that nature, but I also like to operate with a "just in case" point of view. And whether or not there could ever be any sort of awareness for the deceased party, I still think it's beautiful to burn down their earthly remains to the smallest amount possible that can be distributed somewhere that holds meaning to them, the person doing it, or both.

My dad never made it up to Everett, having only come to Seattle just after my mom died and once more when I got married. Coming here changed my life for the better in so many ways, but one thing I had to deal with in the process was healing again after the move into our house made my back pain return, as bad as ever. It took lots of yoga at home to make the physical healing occur, but mentally it happened for me as I spent months exploring Japanese Gulch every chance I got.

I still treat it as a place of reflection and healing, which is why I'll take some of my dad's remains to the creek that runs through it down to the sound. I'll never get to show him this important place, but he'll be part of it forever.

It'll come as no surprise that I'm also getting a memorial tattoo, but I'll talk about that once I have it.