That time after the memorial at R's was really special. We felt (or I felt) like R, H and I were connected on some weird spiritual level. I felt like everything was going as it should. I asked for some plastic baggies and then opened the Urn myself. I transferred some of the ashes from the urn into a baggie for each one of us. I had told the boys beforehand that there would be chunks mixed in with the ashes so they would be prepared. When bones or teeth aren't consumed by the fire, the remains go through a grinder so there are some "chunks." It was something I was glad I knew beforehand. About midnight we loaded up in the car and drove together to the sprinkling place.
The "Wish You Were Here" album was our soundtrack while we drove. We were not exactly jovial, but I don't remember it being too solemn on the car ride. I had seen a sign earlier that day, and I knew where my ashes were going. We parked a ways from where we would end up, what we were about to do wasn't really legal so we didn't want to draw attention to ourselves. As we reached where we were going, I noticed that the lights that were usually on were all out, it was dark and quiet. Weird and wonderful... just proving I had made the right decision. The boys also put some of their ashes in the stream. (The stream where the beaver lives... inside joke.)
We stood there together and after the ashes were spread there came a great breeze. So I told the boys about the night Allen and I were out with another girl (his girlfriend at the time) and we were playing a game... we said the next song that came on the radio was Allen's nickname. The song that came on was Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Call Me the Breeze." Allen said everyone in the world was born with so many "redneck" points and he spent all his on Lynyrd Skynyrd (LOL). We all smiled. I think I shed a few tears. We walked around for a while. I just felt I was communing with nature and the fact that I was closing a chapter. And I felt a little guilty for saving some ashes to take home.
We had talked many, many times about what we wanted done when we passed. I wanted to be scattered and finally he said he wanted the same thing. He did not want me to have ashes at home to worry over and take up space at home. I just wasn't ready to let all of him go. We drove back to R's house, which I have come to think of as my sanctuary. I have my own key and an open invitation to use the house as I will, as I need. Who could ask for better friends?
We drove back, R fell asleep on the way. H and I talked and talked. I don't know how much sleep I got, I don't really remember if I stayed one or two more days. I may have gone back right after... it's all blurry to me now. I know that by this time I was wanting some sort of grieving manual with a time frame. I wanted to know when the hurt would stop, when I would feel like a person again. When I wouldn't feel like I couldn't make decisions on my own.... I hadn't even figured out if I could afford to live alone, but I couldn't imagine leaving my home. It's mine...
It's where my stuff is.
Where our stuff is.
What about all the stuff?
The next day I know I went to visit Nana. I took her the Urn that had been at the service to give to Allen's mom. She had mentioned when I gave her the little urn at the service that she was going to open it and share with his mom. I told her not to because I had plenty of ashes to share and I'd be glad to give her some. I liked my shipping container better than the urn, so I had sealed the urn after taking out ashes to scatter and that was what I took to Nana.
Nana tried to tell me that I needed to keep the urn, or that they'd pay me for it. I felt it was one of the least things I could do for his mom. I wanted her to understand that I'd never tried to keep them apart, that I had always wanted them to have a relationship. I don't know if she understood any of that in my gesture, I doubt it, but it made me feel better.
At this point, anything I could think of to do to feel any better at all was what I did.
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