I Took My Wife's Ashes to the Beach Today

Hard to believe it has been close to six years since I lost the love of my life, my then wife Victoria. We had only been married for barely two years though our relationship spanned over fifteen (on and off, mostly on) prior to our marriage. The only reason we tied the knot after all that time was familial and societal pressure. I still view it as one of the worst decisions of my life and will hold a grudge against the institution of marriage, in its current western form at least, for the remainder of my own life because of it. It is not at all because I regret the choice of wife, I loved Victoria as much as any man can love a woman. Rather, it is because of all the baggage that came, and still comes along with it. The expectations, the lifestyle, pretty much everything about it rubbed us both the wrong way. And yet, because of pressure we did it, we got married. It was well on its way to ruining our relationship when I got very ill in 2015 ending up hospitalized for a month, three weeks of which were spent in the ICU, a result of a necrotizing pancreatitis which came from nowhere. I almost (did, depending on whom you ask) died in that hospital bed. Then as I was still recovering from that life altering experience, suddenly, she was gone. The details are too painful to relate here, but suffice to say I couldn't help her, did not help her when she needed it most, and so I lost her, forever. Of course I blamed myself, and still do, and I have struggled and continue to struggle everyday with the ramifications of that.

In accordance with her wishes, after her death, I had her cremated. I intended to spread her ashes at one of the beaches in Florida she loved most, and where she spent a great deal of her professional and personal life. As a proud National Park Service employee/park ranger she spent significant amounts of time at beaches up and down the east coast and Florida doing conservation work with sea turtles and her personal favorites, shore birds. Of all the shore birds she loved, the endangered piping plover was her favorite. I have no doubt her knowledge of the plovers rivaled any of the top Ph.D. ornithologists, with whom she often worked side by side, studying their behaviors and keeping tabs on their population. Shortly after her death I moved home to live with my mom and dad. I was a wreck of a person, physically still weak and frail from my own continuing health problems as a result of my hospitalization, and mentally devastated, grieving so deeply it hurts physically to think of it now even as I write this. I barely remember that time, and thankfully so, it was as awful as a person could experience, and I would not wish it upon my worst enemy or even the most evil of tyrants. Slowly however I began to recover, physically at least, if not mentally. Eventually I was able to pull myself together enough to travel, and some months after her death I found myself in Florida at the beach where I intended to spread her ashes and say a last goodbye. That day was cold, rainy, and grey. It matched my mood perfectly and seemed fitting for the task at hand. I waded out into the ice cold water as far as I dared, then flung handfuls of her ashes into the raging sea as a mixture of tears, and cold rain streamed down my face. But as the supply of ashes dwindled so did my resolve and I found I could not face the thought of having nothing left of her and so I kept a portion of her ashes, bringing them back from Florida with me. I was not at all certain then what I might do with them, but remember thinking that I would surely know when the time was right and I had found the right place.

Fast forward to almost six years later, and I never did find the right time nor the right place despite several aborted attempts. No matter what, in the end I always found an excuse why the time was not exactly right, or the place not perfect enough. I think mostly, it was that just as now, I could not bare the thought of giving her up entirely. I am not sure what drove me to the decision to make today the day and to pick the particular spot I did. I had not been thinking about Victoria any more than usual and no particular event triggered it. It just came to me that the time was right.

And so I found myself in the company of my faithful companion the gentle giant of a dog Enki the Kangal. He loves the beach almost as much as Vickie did so it seemed fitting that he join me. At the beach I am able to let him off leash, which is a very rare treat for him. Even though he would never harm a soul, at his size, he is too intimidating to have out in public unleashed. People flinch when they see him and sometimes turn away in fear. The hurt of that is visible in his body and eyes whenever it happens. He can't understand why everyone does not just love him straight away like we do. We found a very quiet spot, far away from where any people typically venture. I strode out into the ice cold water to a spot where it lapped just above my feet, and I let her go. Enki stood with me, still as a statue. The sun began to set as I walked home. Goodbye baby.

BVut