Someone asked me yesterday, if I would spread their ashes over a garden. I thought about many types of gardens and places I could or would go. For this person, I would travel anywhere, except Iran, to honor this wish.
I am writing a short story called, "Spreading My Ashes," based on this request. Tears roll down my face and cover almost every page as I write. But it is a very healing way of grieving and so I will press on and sail with tears and even wailing. But I will keep journeying until I find the perfect garden.
I am thinking that you are not ready (mind you, it is only my assumption!) that you are not ready to part with this person. Is he/she still alive?
Don't rush, give yourself time to think about it. My mother who is still alive always told me that it would be her wish - cremation and spreading ashes to the wind. I never felt comfortable with this scenario, but I kept my mouth shut, because my mom loves the most extreme and strange ideas.
When it came to dealing with her father's ashes, she decided to bury the urn. Decisions change. All my relatives are buried in totally different places, so far apart, so it is hardly possible even to go visit cemeteries.
Is there a perfect garden? Pick the one that you will be able to visit, but don't spread the ashes until you are completely ready to part with them. If you ask me, where would be my favourite place, I would tell you - any ocean. Because an ocean is a symbol of life and the ocean will come and visit you as a rain, always. Water is life, rain is sad and beautiful, tears are salty water always reminding you of joy and sadness. Your friend will be alive as long as you can remember him or her.
I wish somebody could say that for me, that he would travel any distance to fulfill my wish. I am not quite sure that anyone will come to my funeral. And that is one of the hub that I intend to write one day "Will you come to my funeral?"
That is good to know. Being that there is only a finite amount ash to be spread, do you know where you will start or are you merely promoting your own work here?
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My beloved 18 year old cat, Pokey, has almost died. We thought she had passed a few hours ago, but she is still holding on. What a tough day; my cat that I've cherished since I was a toddler is almost gone. Phew.My...
by manlypoetryman6 years ago
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