These last few weeks have been rough. Real rough. I’ve got my blood up – and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to calm down.
Have you ever heard that term before? I don’t know where I picked it up from, but it’s a saying I’ve heard a million times over the years. It means angry. And I can’t think of a better way to describe what I’m feeling right now – mad doesn’t quite cover it.
I’m hot. My blood is up; its boiling.
If you follow along on X, you know something happened on the last day of my trip home to Haywood County. Something bad. No one knows exactly what happened that morning because I wasn’t ready to discuss it.
Today, I’m ready.
On our last day in Haywood County, Kodecker and I took the kids to visit the gravesites of Mamaw, Papaw, and Daddy. It’s a tradition. We both visit their graves every time we return home.
This visit began like any other. We parked the car and hopped out. Kodecker walked down the path ahead of me. Before I made it to her side, she looked at me with an ashen face and screamed: “Daddy is gone!”
I walked up to my grandparent’s plot and looked down. Sure enough. Daddy’s marker was gone. Okay. No big deal. It’s been damaged. I told my baby sis to calm down. We’d ride over to the funeral home to see what happened and if we needed to do anything to have the issue resolved.
So that’s what we did. We rode over to the funeral home.
At the funeral home, not even inside the door, we learned our daddy’s ashes had been exhumed and his stone taken.
You read that right.
In a parking lot, I found out that my daddy was removed from his resting place with his parents – and taken by someone who likely dumped him on the side of the road.
Over the following days, I called the police, the NC Cemetery Commission, and spoke to a lawyer. Somehow this was all legal.
My only options are to sue someone who has nothing worth taking – or do nothing. I’ve opted not to throw my money down the drain.
Luckily, I buried my portion of daddy’s ashes with Mamaw. The stone is being replaced – and if this one is touched, it’s a felony.
That should make me feel better. It doesn’t. My blood is still up. The only comfort I have is knowing that Daddy was a force to be reckoned with.
I hope the person who took him has thought about the cosmic consequences – and isn’t afraid of ghosts. If anyone were likely to come back to haunt someone – it’s my daddy.