Momma said God was on the radio.

We were driving on a country road. Fields of corn and the like. The day was ready to find its rest. Sun hovering low in the sky, lingering above the horizon like it was waiting for us. And it was. It was waiting for us.

We were on our way to spread my father’s ashes.

It had been almost 20 years since he had died. Since he had tried to free himself.

So why now? I had a spiritual encounter during a Quaker meeting on Father’s Day. And I felt like Jason—my dad, my father, my ghost—told me it was time. 

During this Quaker meeting, a man stood up and sang Here Comes the Sun by the Beatles. I played the song as I left the worship meeting. I played it again while driving to play basketball with my father’s spirit; it’s an open question on if he showed or not. If he did, I probably outplayed him–but that’s beside the point. As I left the park, I played the song one more time.

It helped get me through Father’s Day; that divinely inspired man in the Quaker Meeting gave me a gift as he stood up and sang about the sun and how things were gonna be alright doot doo doo doo an doot doot doo.

Momma said God was on the radio. As we neared our destination, Here Comes the Sun came on. We all got quiet, looking at the setting sun as we journeyed down the road. 

The previous laughter that filled the car was replaced with a sincere anticipation as we quieted our hearts in preparation to say goodbye. “More like, there goes the sun, huh?” I said, trying to make sense of his departure. The day was ready to find its rest.

And so were we.

But we still had a little further to drive. After the song ended, there was a moment of silence. And then:

Time, flowing like a river
Time, beckoning me

Who knows when
We shall meet again, if ever

But time keeps flowing
Like a river to the sea

Goodbye my love
Maybe for forever

Goodbye my love
The tide waits for me

Who knows when
We shall meet again, if ever

But time keeps flowing
Like a river (on and on)
To the sea, to the sea

'Til it's gone forever
Gone forever
Gone forevermore

Goodbye my friend
Goodbye my love
Maybe for forever

Goodbye my friend
Who knows when 
We shall meet again

The stars wait for me
Who knows where
We shall meet again, if ever

But time keeps flowing
Like a river (on and on)
To the sea, to the sea

'Til it's gone forever
Gone forever
Gone forever

Gone forever now

Forevermore, forevermore

As we made our way to the wooded hilltop that overlooked the sunsetting river, Time by the Alan Parsons Project came on. I didn’t know the song. But the song knew me. It was still playing when we pulled into the parking lot and I started to undo the screws of the urn with a butterknife.

Opening it up and catching sight of my powdery father, I asked if we could listen to the end of the song. Mom took the car keys out of the ignition but the radio kept playing. It would keep going until one of us opened the door. Or so we thought. 

Gone forev—

The song cut off. “Oh shoot, sorry guys!” She threw the keys back in the ignition, but the song was passing on by that point. She couldn’t bring it back. 

Ryan said, “it’s alright. I thought it was fitting.”

We all laughed. A song cut short. Our laughter served as medicine. A healing irony I loved my brother for verbalizing.

Somehow, that sun still lingered in the sky for us, waiting to say goodbye, to find its rest. We walked through the wooded path to the hilltop. Through the trees, the gentle river rippled with the promise of fading light.

I started to spread his ashes as the sun met the river. 

Goodbye my love. The tide waits for me.

It took longer than we thought, each of us taking a turn with the urn. 

Goodbye my love, maybe for forever.

The powder gathered on the ground before us and the four of us were together. We sat down on a bench. The sun set. The day found its rest as a breeze carried my father home.

Who knows when we shall meet again, if ever?
But time keeps flowing like a river
On and on, to the sea

'Til it's gone forever
Gone forever

Gone forever now

It had been almost 20 years since he had died. Since he had tried to free himself. And finally, we freed him. 

Momma said God was on the radio. And I think Momma may have been right.