An attempt to avoid the maudlin. To think of absurdity and beauty as symbiotic. To be naked.
I am endlessly fascinated with my own story.
Royal Oak Burial Park
a strangely beautiful afternoon with my dad at the Royal Oak Burial
Park in Victoria this past Sunday. We went to look at the green burial part of the
cemetery, because he's started thinking about where to be interred. Or
whether to be cremated. Or what. It was an easier and more beautiful
conversation and walk than you might imagine. I personally think he's
going to be around for quite a long while yet, but I'm glad he's not
scared, and is willing to talk about what he wants. Our cycle is what it
is, no matter how hard people try to stop aging and cheat death, and
his making peace with the process is an inspiring thing. Probably this
cemetery won't be his end game, too much highway noise plus a
realization that maybe being cremated and having a little of himself
scattered in all his favourite places in the world would be better.
What's funny is how he is not afraid of dying, but he is worried about
spending eternity in Victoria. I hear ya, dad.