We were on our way to Tombstone when we came across a place that seemed like it was where my dad belonged. We ended up spreading his ashes in Cochise County. My dad gave me a book about Chief Cochise when I was little, and I loved it. So rather than Tombstone, which mostly just sounded cool, Cochise County is a great tribute to his love of history, my memories of him, and a great view of the many places he wanted to explore when he got there.
We had just driven into Cochise when we hit a fertile valley full of farmland. After so much brown and red and yellow, all the green was quite a shock. Better yet, the entire area was surrounded by mountains. My brother pointed out the mountains in Tucson and the ones near Tombstone, and we both agreed that the spot had everything we wanted.
We drove down a dirt road past several farms (growing mostly pistachio trees) full of lots of metal hippy art in their yards, like in Castaway. Finally, we came to a crossroads, and the scene was beautiful yet eerie, which is the best atmosphere for spreading cremains, I think.
I tried to toss them into the vegetation as far as I could without Lebowski’ing myself (again). I couldn’t wander too far off the road because flip flops are not the ideal defense against rattlesnakes. I spread them by myself. I cried a little. My brother and Justin gave me big hugs. It felt right.
P.S. We drove past a million giant dust devils on the way and honestly, how awesome would it have been to cut open the bag of ashes and set them right in the cyclone’s path? If we had more time, I would have insisted. Actually, if I die before coming up with anything cooler, that’s what I want you guys to do to me.