Dear Mr. Diaz,
You wrote: "I doubt my kids will remember what they
did with the ashes."
I read this comment to my cousin Estelle. She said,
"Why don't you ask them?"
I called up my oldest, Philip Jr. It's a long distance
call because he lives in Los Angeles. He's a senior
copy editor in the adult entertainment industry.
I asked him straight out: "Son, what did you do with
my ashes?"
He seemed a little distracted, but said, "Dad, aren't
they in the ceramic urn on the mantel?"
But there wasn't any urn there. So I called up my
next oldest, Catherine, and asked her. She told me to
ask Philip Jr. But I had already talked to him.
I called up my youngest kid. "Pendie," I said, "I'm
trying to find out where my ashes are." She said I
should ask my cousin Estelle. Which took me full
circle, since I had started with Estelle.
I stopped over at Estelle's house.
"Estelle," I said, "Do you have my ashes?"
"No," she said, "but I expect to have them here on
my mantel in a few years. Don't worry about it."
So maybe you should ask your cousin.
Very truly yours,
Philip McPherson
--
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