Well, that was that. We loaded mum, drove to cousin Dana's house (Only missed one exit on the highway, which is not bad, considering we had a printed map, car navigation and me on Google maps...), drove to the Funeral home, where two extremely casually dressed people handed us the bill and I asked about the identification chip for the ashes. The guy produced the broken lid of the original urn and a palm-fitting clay chip, actually truly pleasant to behold. He washed them first a little, they were dusty.
The undertaker gentleman conversed with dana and we Drove to the forest, spontaneously being joined by my sis, whose directions up until then were approximate, because her boyfriend recognised Dana's car from two harvests ago. He's a mechanic, so it's his thing, but well done! Sis and BF brought dogs, but only theirs opted to play around, mum's dog didn't want to get out. I guess the energy was way off. Speaking with the undertaker, I learned we could have tossed dad's ashes into the river at any time, because they do it all the time. Well, fuck. We know for the next time, I guess.
Though I've blocked my rude brother for his relentless behaviour, we texted him the location and after a while, he and some other people he decided to bring along despite our request of keeping it intimate (plus, regulations still dictate an assembly of maximum ten individuals.), showed up. The undertaker poured the ground white little gravel around the woods a bit, and the whole thing lasted two minutes. We stood in silence, bit not wanting to be the first to leave, then I took the box I had and put it in the middle of the ashes. (I packed some home soil, a vine branch, a bee (already dead), his favourite garlic lard spread, some of his old wristwatches and a tiny letter ..) Mum asked if I can collect some of the ashen gravel. Technically we could have collected most of it and there was a lot, but there seemed no need - it was such a pretty forest, just outside his village and the ashes really didn't mean much to anyone, at least none of us.
To me, the entirety of the event was completely surreal. I even thought for a moment I am completely okay and over the whole grief and utterly soul-crushing helpless emptiness until I almost vomited. People were trying to talk to me, but I kept looking away and the General, having had his own private moment with the site and having marked the tree so we'll find it if we ever come by again, acted as my rottweiler, making sure people don't ask me any questions.
Dana and her sister - and I will never as long as I live know which one is which - asked us to come over for some coffee and cake and because they are some of the nicest, liveliest people I have ever known, nobody objected. I needed a moment away from everyone, to not really cry, just ... not vomit ... while my brother smoked his cigar-sized blunt and then proceeded to loudly explain to everyone how poorly his business is going. In the meanwhile, his retarded fucking son was telling mum how he doesn't really believe in precautions and how he refuses to wear a mask. He was telling this to a woman who just lost her husband of 50 years to Covid.
Don't vomit. Don't vomit.
Checking earlier, when we were first here, I noticed behind the mineral-water-filling station (the most famous one in the country), there is supposed to be a tiny petting zoo! They have porcupines and capibaras and whatnot! So I asked the General to let me out of his sight for 20 minutes, while I go look for it. I didn't get far, it was windy AF, nor did I really have much sense of where I was going; I just needed air. My niece, who's extremely rarely showed any interest in my company at all, came after me. Normally I'd be curious about that, but in truth, I had nothing to say. She said she hopes I'm not upset they came, as my brother said mum changed her mind and all are welcome (that never happened. He lied.) I said I don't really care either way. Her mother is nice, though, she has a really nice voice and seems genuine when expressing interest. I wouldn't mind seeing them again, though I am running out of relatives I wish to see again. I mean, they never visit us.
We drove back, pleasantly, mum having relaxed in the car - it's a comfy, safe car and the General knows how to drive jumpy ladies - except for a few sharp turns, which she explained were turns dad failed to stick to. Seems they had a tempestuous relationship with many sharp turns, mum and dad. Anyway, we got mum home, sis and BF having already brought up the dogs, and G and I went back to the city and I got us some burgers. Then we went to bed and it started to rain.
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