Larry's ashes

I attended a graveside service this past weekend.  My step-father of more than 30 years died on February 14 after a long, tough winter.  Cancer had spread, treatment was no longer effective.  We knew there would be no recovery and it was a sad time.  But Larry spent his final months visited by a stream of friends, family, former colleagues, former students, former girls he coached who brought their own daughters to visit.  He was rich with friends and was rewarded in his final months. It's been nearly four months since he died and I still think of Larry daily. His obituary is here.

Larry fishing in Alaska.

Shortly after he died, we had a funeral service in Waterville, the community where he had spent most of his adult life as an educator and coach. This past weekend, we had a graveside service in Tonasket, the community where he had grown up and where his parents and grandparents were raised.  After that service, my two brothers and I spent the afternoon traveling most of north central Washington on a mission to spread Larry's ashes.  Well, part of them at least. We designated it the "Screw Bridgeport" tour, since that was just about the only town in the entire region we managed not to pass through. 


Our tour with Larry's ashes was set in motion one day back in December, a few months before he died.  He had wanted to put his affairs in order, including what would become of him.  He wanted to be cremated and he wanted his remains to be distributed in four specific locations.  So I pulled a stool alongside his recliner and with the help of a yellow legal pad and Google Earth technology on an iPad, we determined with pinpoint accuracy where his ashes would be scattered. It's good to have the exact coordinates, since spreading ashes in the wrong spot is not one of those events that lend themselves to do-overs.  Once Larry was satisfied I knew where he wanted to spend eternity, he then explained why.


His first wish was fulfilled at the graveside service.  He wanted my mother, his wife of 32 years, to have a portion of his remains for burial in the Tonasket cemetery alongside his mother and father with space for Mom when it is her time to join him. 

Second, he wanted ashes spread along the beach at Resurrection Bay near Seward, Alaska, a place he spent three summers after retirement and fished for salmon and halibut almost daily. Seward was not on the itinerary last weekend, but during our Screw Bridgeport tour, on the road between Republic and Nespelem, we planned a Seattle to Seward family cruise, perhaps next summer, with Mom, daughters-in-law, grandkids, and Larry's ashes.

Larry's view, Cayuse Mountain

His third wish was our first stop after the graveside service and lunch at the church.  Larry wanted ashes spread on a sagebrush and bunch-grass covered opening on a mountain not far from where his grandparents had homesteaded and where he had spent many childhood days.  This particular spot was a favorite hunting spot, where he had hunted with several generations of his family. “It’s a very good place to kill a mule deer buck,” he recalled the day he told me where he wanted his ashes spread.  Larry and I then had a debate about whether I had once shot a buck at this spot as a teenager, hitting its hindquarters and making field dressing messy and unpleasant. I remembered that Larry had actually shot the buck in the ass and then told me to do the field dressing because I “needed the practice.”  Either way, I recognized the specific location as my brothers and I wound our way up Cayuse Mountain (shortly after we had scared up three mule deer does).  We found a nice spot by some boulders where Larry will forever be scouting big bucks.

Long Lake, Ferry County, Washington

Finally, Larry wanted ashes spread at his favorite fishing spot.  Specifically, he wanted his ashes spread over a rocky outcropping above Long Lake from where the entire lake is visible. Long Lake is fly-fishing only with no motorized boating.  Larry had fished this spot since childhood. Long Lake was also a favorite fishing destination of Larry’s father, John.  Before John died in 2007, he issued a single request to Larry:  That every year Larry was able, he would fish Long Lake at least twice a year.  Larry honored that request - his final trip to Long Lake was last October, when he knew that his health would not let him return.  My brothers and I are convinced this is when he picked out the specific rocky outcropping where he wanted part of his ashes spread.  He was sitting in his boat, trout jumping, and saw a point where, with a strenuous climb over rock slides and up a steep slope littered with downed timber, a person could spend eternity.  So Larry actually made one last trip to Long Lake last weekend, a quarter of his ashes secured in a zip-locked plastic baggie.  And after a scramble up the rock slide and over the downed trees in a light rain, Larry's wish was fulfilled.  Watching this would no doubt have amused Larry.

Then it was back to my brother's house in Chelan.  I spent a great day transporting and distributing Larry's ashes.  A lot of remembering, a lot of sharing.  It was the longest my brothers and I had been together alone and without other distractions for years.  Maybe that was part of Larry's plan as well.  We miss him.  And we still have a trip to Alaska.