I'm home! The bus ride to Grande Prairie, where my mom lives, was nice. I saw a few deer on the side of the road. The memorial service was lovely. Rather than a formal service we had several people sharing their memories of my step-father. We then had a buffet and ended up with a lot of left over food, which was donated to the indigent (homeless) who hang out at my step-father's favorite bar.

My mom asked me to write a poem for the service, I wrote two and she asked me to read one of them at the service, the other was more for her alone.

Gone Fishing

The first thing you noticed
Was the twinkle in his eyes
As he greeted you with a smile
Offering his friendship freely
With a how do you do
And won’t you stay awhile?

And you always wanted to stay
For he made you feel comfortable
Like a long lost friend
Who he wanted to talk to
To catch up on old times
And you knew on him you could depend

For his shoulder was strong
And always willing
To help you carry a heavy load
To lend you support
And for that he’ll be remembered
As we all go down life’s road

And we will remember
The twinkle in his eyes
The warmth of his heart
The strength of his friendship
The love he had for all of us
Now that we must part

We will miss him through the years
But he is free now
And gone fishing
And though we’ll catch ourselves wishing
He could be here with us
We’ll try to understand - he’s gone fishing

On some lake
Where the fish are always biting
And the mosquitoes are not
And where he can be free
To smile with joy
For he will never be forgot.

C. A. Erickson

The day after the service we headed out to his favorite lake, Haig lake to camp out there a few days and scatter his ashes there. It's a beautiful place, with spruce, pine, poplar, birch and other trees, bushes, wildflowers - including bluebells and wild roses. There are a few camping spots, but none have an outhouse, no electrical outlets and you bring your own water and firewood or collect it there. It's quite, private, and I enjoyed the short break from work. Enjoyed looking out at the trees and the lake and just thinking.

His sons, one of his nephews and his nephew's boyfriend joined us. To plant a cross the boyfriend made out of wood - very nice cross, name carved into it, laminated card with my step-father's picture and the obituary printed on it, fastened to the centre. One son built a small campfire about six feet away from the cross, in honour of him. Both sons set empty bear cans on either side of the cross, pouring the last of the beer over the ashes (my step-father's favorite brand). My mom scattered some of the ashes from the cross to the campfire and back and some in the lake. I hugged her after because this was hard for her.

Once back at the campsite I wrote a poem about the place we put the cross, that I am to send to both sons and my mom, along with a copy of the poem I read at the funeral.


At Rest

The wind sings through the trees
Spruce boughs lay low beside me
A tall birth reaches ever upward
Towards the sun
A small stream flows past
Trickling away into a waterfall
Bluebells grow wild around me
Wild roses gather nearby
Two bear here
To quench my thirst
A campfire burns nearby
Its smoke comforting
Its heat keeping me warm
I went boating one last time
Now I'm always fishing
On the lake I love dearly
With the wind singing to me
The trees whispering
And the birds calling me home.

I'm glad I went to be there for my mom and to say goodbye to my step-father. Now, I don't think I can go through my flist to see what all you were up to while I was gone. As it has been a week since I read it last and it averages 75 entries a day, so drop a line here if you went through anything interesting, life-changing, did something fun, or just to say hi.