Monday, February 08, 2010

I went and picked up my mom's ashes today, hugging to my chest the velvet bag holding the container as I walked back to my van. I even seat belted it in place as I drove home. Intellectually, I know that the ashes are just that. Ashes. This is the way I forced myself to view her body as well. This is not the woman who raised and loved me. This is not the mother I loved. This is just what she left behind, like a husk left as a reminder of a sudden, lonely metamorphosis.

What else can you do, how else can you think and feel, when you see your mom lying dead on the floor? And how else can you view a neatly packaged container of ashes?

Still, it was a strangely profound moment for me, hugging those ashes. After the maudlin confines of the waiting room at the Neptune Society, walking with her remains back to the van felt like taking her home one last time. Or not quite a last time, because eventually her ashes will be scattered out to sea, where she will intermingle with countless others, including my friend Sea Turtle, who died in 2008, and Dr. Seuss, who died in 1991. Also, since all oceans are connected, she'll be out there with Gandhi, and countless others. Sure, they're just ashes, but I'm comforted by the fact that all of those ashes are returning to the womb of the world and mixing together. Who knows where they will end up?

On the other side of me, generationally speaking, is Willow. I'm proud of her for the way she handled the news. Sure, she quietly cried for a time, but then she asked to go to the park. At the park, she walked right past the playground and made a beeline for a grove of trees she refers to as "the rain forest". Once there, she requested to be put up in one of the trees, and after I obliged, she talked with my brother and I about life and death, even going to far as to note that being at the park was helping her. I'm especially happy that she so obviously takes comfort in trees.

What would we do without trees?

Currently listening to: Philip Glass "Orion", which made its way here from my mom's collection. Let the music be heard and the books be read!

2 comments:

christyscherrer said...

deepest sympathies to you. I noticed the nostalgic photos on flickr and the ominous caption that said “last family photo”. I’ve only looked at your blog a few times, but wandered over wondering about the comment. I’m very sorry to hear about your mother. Really. Despite your pain, you have found comfort in the bigger picture. Very touching the way you described Willow and the trees~ I get that. Wishing you ongoing comfort and healing~

dr silence said...

Thank you, Christy,

I do now have this impulse to preserve the past through the recording/digitization of family artifacts. I talked to a friend at work who lost his dad last year, and he noted that while going through his dad's belongings, he learned all sorts of things about him that he'd never known. I'm in the middle of that process right now, little consolation that it is. Still, it's keeping me busy and focused, which is good right now.

All the best,
John