Today is the 20th anniversary of my father’s death. It is mind-bending to realise that so much time has passed. Dad’s energy, wisdom, and memory is always with me.
He was a sailor who loved the sea, so we scattered his ashes in oceans around the world. When I want to visit with him, I head to the beach and dip a toe in the water then laugh as he sends me a wave that soaks my pants. Every time.
Yesterday we drove south to the southern tip of Chiba where the Pacific Ocean curves north into Tokyo Bay and spreads west towards the Philippine Sea.
We brought a picnic lunch of fried chicken from Issekinicho, the popular stand at Aihama. We ate in the sea breeze on the dunes of Nemoto beach. A bright, cool Equinox day.
I had hoped to light some incense to recreate a memorable family moment from June of 2001. But the wind was too strong and the tombi spied our picnic and started swooping overhead, so we packed up and wandered down to the rock formations of 御神根島, Gominne Island.
At low tide, there are rows and rows of rocks that look like a giant heaved them into the sand at an angle. But there was no giant, only plate tectonics and time; the iron-rich stone once surrounded layers of softer rock that eroded away in the water.
On the biggest outcropping, the island itself, sits a flock of cormorants.
Norwegian tradition says that cormorants represent the spirits of those lost at sea. One of the birds in particular seemed to want our attention. He stood apart from the others and sunned his wings as he faced us. Maybe that was Dad’s spirit making itself known, even though he wasn’t exactly lost at sea.
Twenty years in the spirit world, Dad, and you’re still here in my heart and soul.
