Saying Goodbye
I had two concerns regarding spreading a portion of my grandfather's ashes at Angkor Wat. One worry was if a security guard caught me in the act of spreading Grandpa's ashes, didn't like the gesture, and booted me from premises. The other concern I had was how to properly say goodbye to him.
In the months and weeks leading up to my trip to Cambodia and Vietnam I would, from time to time, turn over in my head what I would say. It needed to be good; my grandfather deserved a well versed message. If asked to identify the nucleus of my family, the real power source, I would point to my grandfather. He contributed to the success and welfare of each and every member of my family. My sister and I own houses because of Grandpa. He helped with family members' college educations, gave guidance and support in careers, and told so many wonderful stories.
So I felt this couldn't just be a simple "adios;" my farewell needed to be special. My mother urged me to keep it short. Don't get long-winded and all sugary and flowery, she warned. I agreed with her on that point. My grandfather would probably be grinding his teeth and impatiently waiting for me to hurry up already. He wasn't one for a long, drawn-out goodbye.
A little background: my grandparents were world-class travelers. They sailed rings around this planet. They frequently rented an apartment in Venice, Italy and pretty much visited every spot on the map. Except for Angkor Wat- the famous ancient temple complex located in Siem Reap, Cambodia. My grandmother had zero interest in touring the largest religious monument in the world and visiting the site was physically too challenging for my grandfather. But he always wanted to go. So when I booked a trip to Vietnam and Cambodia, which included a visit to Angkor, and Grandpa passed away, my father suggested that I bring some of his ashes to the site.
So I carried his ashes in a plastic film canister that was wrapped in a rubber band and enclosed in a zip-loc bag in my suitcase. He and I flew 12 plus hours in an airplane, sailed on the Mekong River and rode on a bus through the Cambodian countryside before arriving at Angkor Wat.
My fear of making international headlines as an annoying tourist who got thrown out of Cambodia for breaking the rules at a sacred site pushed me to ask the tour guide if it was OK that I spread my grandfather's ashes. He thought it was a wonderful idea and showed me a spot to do it. It was at a large moat just outside one of the ancient stone gates to Angkor Wat. So while the rest of the group walked to the main entrance, I climbed down large stone steps to the water's edge.
I felt a bit nervous and anxious; the kind of feeling I felt whenever I needed to make a speech in school. I only had one shot at this; it needed to be good.
Removing the canister from the zip-loc bag, I untied the rubber band and popped off the lid of the canister. The words just came to me as my grandfather was finally introduced to Angkor Wat. It didn't feel sad; it was a fond farewell to a truly loved man.
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| The view of Angkor Wat my grandfather gets to see. |
In the months and weeks leading up to my trip to Cambodia and Vietnam I would, from time to time, turn over in my head what I would say. It needed to be good; my grandfather deserved a well versed message. If asked to identify the nucleus of my family, the real power source, I would point to my grandfather. He contributed to the success and welfare of each and every member of my family. My sister and I own houses because of Grandpa. He helped with family members' college educations, gave guidance and support in careers, and told so many wonderful stories.
So I felt this couldn't just be a simple "adios;" my farewell needed to be special. My mother urged me to keep it short. Don't get long-winded and all sugary and flowery, she warned. I agreed with her on that point. My grandfather would probably be grinding his teeth and impatiently waiting for me to hurry up already. He wasn't one for a long, drawn-out goodbye.
A little background: my grandparents were world-class travelers. They sailed rings around this planet. They frequently rented an apartment in Venice, Italy and pretty much visited every spot on the map. Except for Angkor Wat- the famous ancient temple complex located in Siem Reap, Cambodia. My grandmother had zero interest in touring the largest religious monument in the world and visiting the site was physically too challenging for my grandfather. But he always wanted to go. So when I booked a trip to Vietnam and Cambodia, which included a visit to Angkor, and Grandpa passed away, my father suggested that I bring some of his ashes to the site.
So I carried his ashes in a plastic film canister that was wrapped in a rubber band and enclosed in a zip-loc bag in my suitcase. He and I flew 12 plus hours in an airplane, sailed on the Mekong River and rode on a bus through the Cambodian countryside before arriving at Angkor Wat.
My fear of making international headlines as an annoying tourist who got thrown out of Cambodia for breaking the rules at a sacred site pushed me to ask the tour guide if it was OK that I spread my grandfather's ashes. He thought it was a wonderful idea and showed me a spot to do it. It was at a large moat just outside one of the ancient stone gates to Angkor Wat. So while the rest of the group walked to the main entrance, I climbed down large stone steps to the water's edge.
I felt a bit nervous and anxious; the kind of feeling I felt whenever I needed to make a speech in school. I only had one shot at this; it needed to be good.
Removing the canister from the zip-loc bag, I untied the rubber band and popped off the lid of the canister. The words just came to me as my grandfather was finally introduced to Angkor Wat. It didn't feel sad; it was a fond farewell to a truly loved man.
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