(no subject)
We got Mom last yesterday; three Fenton milkglass urns full of her. (Mom had a collection of about 100 pieces.) When my sister picked her up, there was still about two-three pounds of her ashes left. (Still surprised at how much there was.) After vegetarian lasagna & half a bottle of Shiraz, we decided we should go spread her remaining ashes over Lake Michigan.
We took the rest of her, the rest of the wine sans glasses and went down to the lake. The sun was starting to go down as we began our one mile walk out to the lighthouse. Rebekah and I walked together, laughing and reminiscing about Mom, as cool breezes coasted off of the water. The water was such a beautiful dark blue; the sky was beautiful, streaked with colors of the sun behind us. Upon reaching the lighthouse, we went around the skinny/scary ledge to the backside of it and then broke out the wine bottle. After a few moments, we opened the box and bag of the rest of her remains, and let the wind catch her ashes.
We watched her ashes fly in the wind and we both swore we saw an orange aura floating in the crisp blue sky.
After a toast to Mom, we finished the bottle and began walking back to our car. And Mom was there; walking between us, hand-in-hand with us. Although Mom has been gone for 2 1/2 months, it felt like some closure was created, for both of us, knowing that the rest of her was released back into the world; floating on the wind.. free.
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I've been thinking more and more about my own mortality these days. More than likely, I will see the death of close friends and loved ones before my time is up. We all die. The less I think about it, the better. Don't get me wrong, I'm not afraid of death.. just hope it doesn't happen yet for a long time. I have so much more to be done in this world.
Will my great-great-great grandchildren, in 100 years from now, really care about who I was or what I did or what my life was like? Does my existence truly make a difference in this world, right now? Will I leave behind any kind of legacy?
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Today is better than yesterday; better than two months ago. The large hole in my heart is starting to heal; being mended with love and time. The warmth and care of my mother lives on within me. And I intend to share that with my family, my friends; my future children. And I'm filling that hole with what I can; what I must in order to be okay with the departure of my mother.
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I miss her long-fingered hands, the way her smile would light up the room, the way her eyes knew me; the way we hugged. Although I will never have these again, I will always cherish them in my heart. I will never forget.