I've known since the age of 10 that I wanted to be cremated when I died. If we look at the actual years and numbers maybe I was nine. But the story says 10 so we're going to stay with that.
What I remember is the idea of glittering ashes falling down to the glittering sea. I grew up in Williams Bay on beautiful Lake Geneva and the idea of glittering was firmly in my mind.
Apparently a heinous European criminal was cremated and his ashes were spread over the Mediterranean. In those days we had a black-and-white television so I couldn't see the colored water except in my imagination.
Finally, decades later, I put those keywords into the search engine and found out that this was the execution of Adolf Eichmann by the Israelis after the Nuremberg trials.
We were not particularly political. We're not Jewish or German at our house. I don't recall any discussion about this particular event. It's just that it burned in and set pretty quickly on me.
And so … a start.
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