Here's something my dad wrote about the ocean, what he called his "Blue Church." It explains why he will be happy his ashes were scattered at sea.
The church was always brilliantly lit with Golden Rays.
The Deep Blue of the Church was always very serene.
Whenever I entered, my spirit and soul was wrapped in calmness and peace.
The cares of the world were lifted from my shoulders.
I no longer was the person who had to be.
I now was the person I was supposed to be.
The deep comforting seats of the church
cradle my very being.
I was now reduced to a mere being
in all the greatness of the immense Blue Church.
Words are not spoken,
they need not be.
--Roy W. Byrd, January 23, 1994.