I don’t know what to do with my father’s remains.

My father died two months ago. At first, it was something expected. He had a stroke that paralyzed his entire body, followed by several heart attacks that resulted in kidney failure. <br><br>To the end, my father remained mentally aware of everything around him. He knew that he was unable to move or respond, and was being kept alive by a battery of tubes and ventilators. He told me that he was feeling excruciating pain and begged me to end his life. I was in agony that my father had to live through this. He was an avid hiker and rock climber, and I couldn’t bear the thought of him feeling this way.<br><br>I tried to convince the doctors to end his life, but they denied it. After running out of options, I made the difficult decision to take matters into my own hands. One night, I secretly disconnected my father’s ventilator tube, ending his suffering. I couldn’t let him endure any more pain.<br><br>A few days later, I received a call from the funeral director, informing me that my father’s cremation had been completed. However, when I arrived to collect the remains, I was handed a cardboard box with an unusual warning label. The remains were not what I had expected. Instead of the fine, powdery ash I anticipated, something strange was inside.<br><br>Inside the box were several large, solid stone-like fragments, which I realized were my father's remains. They were heavy and hard to the touch, completely unlike the cremated remains I had anticipated. Confused and concerned, I called the funeral director, who assured me that this was normal. He explained that it's not uncommon for larger bones, like hip and leg bones, to retain their shape after being reduced to ash. He told me that the fragments were simply parts of the larger remains that had been crushed into small pieces. But I was skeptical. I had a feeling that something was off.<br><br>To put my mind at ease, I visited a local park and sat by a pond, where I held the box of remains. I decided to open the box and examine the fragments more closely. As I did, I noticed that each fragment felt extremely heavy, much denser than I expected. As I turned them over in my hands, I realized that they were not simply crushed bones, but were instead small, sharp-edged rocks. I was confused and concerned.<br><br><br>I decided to send one of the fragments to a lab for analysis. A few days later, I received an unexpected phone call from the lab technician. They told me that the rock-like fragment that I had sent them had yielded nothing but basalt. However, when they broke it down further, they found something strange. The fragment contained traces of two substances: lead and...tungsten.<br><br>I had no idea what this meant. However, it did not seem right. I searched the internet for clues but found nothing.<br><br>I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with the remains. I felt like I owed it to my father to get to the bottom of it. So, I decided to investigate further.<br><br>I called the funeral home and asked for a meeting with the person in charge. They said they would call me back.<br><br>The next morning, I received a call. It was the director of the funeral home. He told me that he was on his way over, that he would be at my place in an hour.<br><br>He arrived promptly, and I could tell that he was nervous. He was fidgeting with his hands and kept looking around the room.<br><br>"So, what can I do for you?" he asked.<br><br>"I need to know what really happened to my father," I said. "I know you're keeping something from me. Tell me or I'll report you to the police."<br><br>He sighed and rubbed his face.<br><br>"I have nothing to hide," he said. "But I need you to promise that you won't tell anyone else about this. It's very important."<br><br>"Okay," I said. "I won't tell."<br><br>"Your father didn't die of his stroke," he said. "And he wasn't cremated. At least, not in the way you think."<br><br>"What do you mean?" I asked.<br><br>"I'll explain," he said. "But first, you have to see something."<br><br>He stood up and walked to the window. He gestured for me to come over. I walked over, and he pointed outside.<br><br>"Do you see that man?" he asked.<br><br>I did. There was a man in a long coat standing across the street. He was standing perfectly still, staring at the house.<br><br>"Who is that?" I asked.<br><br>"That is one of the collectors," he said. "They're the ones who take care of your father's remains."<br><br>I was confused.<br><br>"What do you mean?" I asked.<br><br>"They take care of his remains," he said. "They'll collect them on the day of the funeral and take them somewhere...else."<br><br>"Where?" I asked.<br><br>"I don't know," he said. "And I don't think I want to know. But they'll take good care of them. They'll make sure that your father's remains are safe."<br><br>I didn't know what to say.<br><br>"Where did they actually put his body?" I asked.<br><br>"I buried it deep in the forest," he said. "Far from prying eyes. It will be returned, though. That's all I can say."<br><br>I didn't know what to say. But something about this seemed wrong.<br><br>"Prove it," I said. "Take me to where you buried it."<br><br>The funeral director smiled.<br><br>"I was hoping you would ask that," he said. "Come."<br><br>He gestured for me to follow him. I walked out of the house with him, leaving the door creaking open behind us. I glanced over at the man across the street but he didn't move.<br><br>The director and I got in his car and drove deep into the forest. After an hour of driving, he pulled over to the side of the road and killed the engine.<br><br>"This is it," he said. "Your father is buried down there."<br><br>He indicated a cliff overlooking the forest. I walked over and looked down. At the bottom, I could see a small mound of earth. I could also see a collection of wooden planks, big enough to serve as a coffin. <br><br>I felt a deep pain in my chest.<br><br>"Why?" I asked, fighting back tears.<br><br>The director smiled.<br><br>"I had no choice," he said. "I was approached by a man who told me something that I can never tell you. I did what I did to protect this town, and I don't regret it."<br><br>"Can you at least tell me where the fragments of 'remains' came from?" I asked.<br><br>"They fell from the sky," he said. "They're doing this to many people in this town. They could use you too, if you choose to submit. It’s a gift."<br><br>"A gift?" I asked.<br><br>"Yes," he said. "A gift. They're choosing people from this town for a reason unknown to me, but if you submit, you'll be gifted something incredible."<br><br>"And what is that something?" I asked.<br><br>"I can't tell you," he said. "But it's something wonderful."<br><br>I was stunned. I had no idea what to make of this. I was both intrigued and terrified.<br><br>"Thank you," I said. "And sorry it had to end like this."<br><br>"It's okay," he said. "I know that you won't tell anyone. And I'm glad that I could give you the truth."<br><br>As I walked back to my car, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. I knew that I would never forget this day, and that my father's death would always be a mystery.<br><br>When I got back to my house, I sat on the couch, staring blankly at the wall. I knew that I would never be able to tell anyone what really happened to my father. But I also knew that I would always carry the truth with me, and that it would haunt me for the rest of my life.