I hope Duke Bainum liked dogs, because that would mean that he’s happily at rest in a spot near the fence that separates Diamond Head Memorial Park from the Bark Park next door at the top end of 18th Avenue. I like the idea of all those happy growls and barks as dogs race around the area in chase of toys and each other. Short of eternal kittens, this is probably about as good as it gets. And visiting Duke will be a more lively experience as a result of the Bark Park’s presence.

In any case, Bark Park aside, it was a sad morning as a small group of friends and family gathered to say our final goodbyes to Duke Bainum.

There were many poignant moments. Son, Z, reaching over the flowers to touch his father’s photo. Z and Kona dropping flowers onto the urn, the symbolic release of pigeons and butterflies providing the very immediate sensation of freedom and release.

This was a public event and I feel okay sharing some of the photos. Just click on the photo above for more from yesterday’s relatively brief gathering.

And I should say that I had difficulty writing this up and captioning the photos, in part because I obviously don’t know the appropriate terminology. What do you call that simple hole in the ground where the receptacle holding the ashes is placed? Is it a grave or does that term require a body? I hit questions at every point, but feel like it’s somewhat morbid to seek answers. It’s all an area where that background awareness of the fragility of human life sneaks into our consciousness, and that is uncomfortable at some existential level.

I made it through the past two days by focusing on the images and the tactile sense of the cameras I carried. Others didn’t have that luxury.