Ashes to Ashes

I’ve always been thankful that having a wake is not a Jewish custom. The thought of seeing the body, all made up like a Max Factor model, seemed macabre to me. And I couldn’t fathom the prospect of drinking and laughing when someone is dead. But some people lend themselves to that kind of celebration and Ashley was one of them. He deserved a party to celebrate his life. There’s nothing that could help us all deal with this more than just spending time together, with Ashley’s body, getting trashed and fucked up and telling stories about him, laughing at the things he did and said and crying at the no-tomorrow-ness of it all.

Instead we attended prayers and a memorial service for Ashley tonight. It was terrible and beautiful. There was a strong connection between all of Ash’s friends, we just hugged each other and let ourselves sob into each other’s arms. His girlfriend spoke and she was so brave, she made everyone laugh and cry. And then Ash’s father had to say Kadish for him. The Jewish prayer for mourners. The prayer that children know and fear and deny that one day they will have to say for their parents but that no parent ever expects to say for his child. And Ash’s father was not close to him. And the prayer mocked him. And he broke down in the middle. And we all cried extra hard for him because he never knew Ashley like we did and we felt crap. For him and the loss of potential. For the son he never got to know.

I keep thinking if I just give a good enough argument Ash will be given back to us. Why him? Why did he have to go? Why not take someone old, someone who was ready? I Can’t Won’t Don’t want to accept this. Who do I have to speak to to get Ash back? This is some sort of horrendous bureaucratic mix-up. If I can just talk to the right person, the Manager, maybe we can sort this misunderstanding out…

No Wake for Ash. And no sleep for me. I don’t fucking care if it was his destiny. I don’t want to hear how he lived life to the full. I just want him back.