Here’s the plan. One of these days, I hope not soon, my spirit will leave this body and what has looked like me all these years will be remains. The children will have me cremated. I hope they will gather the people I’ve known and tell stories about me and laugh. The children will take my ashes down to the Alabama beach, rent a boat, and putter out beyond the breakers. They’ll have my ashes in a degradable container that will slowly dissolve allowing my ashes to merge with the salt water. Gradually, ever so gradually, some of my ashes will be pushed toward the shore eventually landing invisible on the wet sand. A hot day will come and a child will build a sandcastle and little molecules of me will be part of that sandcastle. When I’ve imagined this, it sounds lovely, even magical. As I write it, some creepy is creeping in. Nonetheless, I think it’s a good plan. See y’all at the beach!
— Marmar
— Marmar
Yes, that is a beautiful vision, beautifully written. I'm with you in hoping it doesn't come too soon.
ReplyDeleteNot creepy. Lovely!
ReplyDeleteI must ask: Is it legally allowed to dump a person's ashes into the Gulf these days? I know that when my brother scattered my father's ashes on the Charles River in Massachusetts, he had to make sure no one was watching. I have read recently about pan-consciousness, the theory that even molecules have consciousness! So, be prepared! (Macoff)
ReplyDeleteMy whole family is a cremation tradition tribe. And I sure prefer it to being embalmed (horrors!) and preserved in a coffin - - that sounds way worse under Macoff's "pan-consciousness" to me. BUT, and my pointing this out has caused big problems with some friends / fissures!, I have to point out, because I'm like that, that the cremation process is a big greenhouse gas producer. I have on to-do list to write a will that says I wish to be buried naturally, maybe with a tree to feed with my remains - - if it were a fruit tree, then I'd be shared that way, like your beach sand. :) (P.S. the only luck I've had with growing watermelons in my yard was the year that I planted the vines on the burial spot of a hen who'd died - - heartbreak - - but she came back that way - - precious)
ReplyDelete