Yesterday was a bit of a weird day. It would have been my father’s 65th birthday. Instead it was the day I scattered my father’s ashes to the sea. Weird. Yes, sad as well but because it’s already been a while since my dad’s passing (during the winter time in Finland, the sea is not an option for burial, so you need to wait), it was just mostly weird. It was a beautiful, sunny day and I always love to go out to the sea, so I kind of felt like I was doing something wrong because I actually enjoyed the day. And I didn’t know if I should have made it somehow ceremonial. I already had my cry at the funeral and also couple of days before when listening to music that reminds me of my dad. So, I ended up doing nothing special, just scattered the ashes. Just me and the rear end of the boat. And the sea. Guess it was suitable enough.
My relationship with my dad was always quite complicated one. Especially when I grew up and started to understand that there’s no need for me to take that shit that he used to throw at me. He was really bad at calling me when sober, so instead he always called me when really drunk and usually end up giving hell to me by telling how bad person I’ve become. So, after I told him that if he’s not able to call me sober, he should not call at all. It took few years for him to understand that but during the last couple of years of his life, we did talk a few times a year. Mostly about the weather or how the fish is catching. But civilized conversations anyway. But I don’t remember when I saw him the last time. And then cops came to tell me he had a heart attack and didn’t survive. So, you might understand why it feels weird. Especially because afterwards I heard how he had been so proud of me and how he always talk about me and my doings. I don’t know. At least he’s now forever at the sea, in the place he loved the most.