Graduated! My daughter graduated high school Friday. It was a good day for her. She won a small scholarship and a couple of school art awards. She is preparing to strike out on her own and become all that she has the potential to become. Since finances are not what most of us wish for, and since I'm looking at unemployment in a couple weeks her great plan is to go off to community college in the fall - get her prerequisites out of the way and then head to the Art Institute the year after. I think it's a good plan.
If only she would concede to live with me while attending community college all will be perfect.
Saying good-bye to my parents.
My father passed away in 1992. His last request: "I don't want to be cold." So my mom kept his ashes with her for 18 years. Keeping them warm. They had a special place in my house for the last 7 years.
My mother passed away in December. Her last instructions were to mix their ashes and scatter them at one of their favorites spots in the desert. This place, she had said, was very special to them. The two sets of ashes have been side-by-side until yesterday, the big day. The day that would have been their 58th wedding anniversary.
I immediately discovered a small problem. I didn't have anything large enough to mix them in. I briefly considered a large tupperware container I have - but I wasn't sure I could ever use it again if it had been the temporary vessel for my parents and it seemed so impractical to throw away perfectly good tupperware. I am my mother's daughter after all.
With no solution at hand, I placed both containers - unmixed but side-by-side - in a picnic basket for transport. I was playing it by ear and figured I'd figure it out when the time came.
Peter, Jill and I took the long drive to the trailhead of the designated spot. We parked and surveyed the landscape. The trail had degraded a bit in the last 20 years but a little adventure was okay by me. I carried them down the slippery, treacherous slope, around the chain-link fence, through the bushes, across some boulders and finally reached the perfect location.
I opened both bags and poured Mom's cremains on top of Dad's and just let them hang out there awhile all snuggly and cozy-like. I considered closing up the back and giving it a shake - but that seemed wrong. How does one know what the protocol is in these instances?? There should be a book.
I left them together in the bag, in the picnic basket while we paused to enjoy the scenery and feel what made this place so special. It spoke to me. I understood. The sun was very warm, my parents were together. It was time. Their ashes mixed together as they left the bag. It worked perfectly.
They were good people.
They were good parents.
My brother and I are two very lucky kids.
My father passed away in 1992. His last request: "I don't want to be cold." So my mom kept his ashes with her for 18 years. Keeping them warm. They had a special place in my house for the last 7 years.
My mother passed away in December. Her last instructions were to mix their ashes and scatter them at one of their favorites spots in the desert. This place, she had said, was very special to them. The two sets of ashes have been side-by-side until yesterday, the big day. The day that would have been their 58th wedding anniversary.
I immediately discovered a small problem. I didn't have anything large enough to mix them in. I briefly considered a large tupperware container I have - but I wasn't sure I could ever use it again if it had been the temporary vessel for my parents and it seemed so impractical to throw away perfectly good tupperware. I am my mother's daughter after all.
With no solution at hand, I placed both containers - unmixed but side-by-side - in a picnic basket for transport. I was playing it by ear and figured I'd figure it out when the time came.
Peter, Jill and I took the long drive to the trailhead of the designated spot. We parked and surveyed the landscape. The trail had degraded a bit in the last 20 years but a little adventure was okay by me. I carried them down the slippery, treacherous slope, around the chain-link fence, through the bushes, across some boulders and finally reached the perfect location.
I opened both bags and poured Mom's cremains on top of Dad's and just let them hang out there awhile all snuggly and cozy-like. I considered closing up the back and giving it a shake - but that seemed wrong. How does one know what the protocol is in these instances?? There should be a book.
I left them together in the bag, in the picnic basket while we paused to enjoy the scenery and feel what made this place so special. It spoke to me. I understood. The sun was very warm, my parents were together. It was time. Their ashes mixed together as they left the bag. It worked perfectly.
They were good people.
They were good parents.
My brother and I are two very lucky kids.
A beautiful place befitting of 2 very special people.
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