We recently visited the great white north to bid farewell to my father. He lived out a number of his later years in Seward, a fishing town on the shore of Resurrection Bay in southwestern Alaska.
Towards the end of his life, it just got too damn cold and expensive and he and his wife migrated back down to the lower 48, to Bend, Oregon, to finish up.
His wish was that we scatter his ashes on the bay after his passing.
So it was that myself and Peggy, my brother Steve and his son Jason, my Uncle Richard who was the younger brother of my father, my sister Debbie and her husband John, and my father’s wife Claudia coordinated over email and showed up a little less than a year after he gave up the ghost to fulfill one of his post-life wishes.
Uncle Richard has a stash of pretty good jokes, picked up from Elks clubs and his years as a Santa Clara County Sheriff (retired) now living in Oregon, which, after a double vodka and tonic, he is happy to deliver. This is the single one I can remember:
Man at Bar #1: (drinking deep from his fresh pint) Ah! And this is the best drink I’ve had since my birth in ’42.
Man at Bar #2: (turning) ’42 is it? The same as me. (and hoists his glass)
MaB#1: (returns salute) You don’t say. But I was born in these parts, and was educated by the sisters at Saint Agnes.
MaB#2: Indeed, and what a small world! And I went to Saint Agnes as well!
Bartender: (sighs) Bloody hell, the Murphy twins are at it again.