Going Up North
The drive didn’t take long. The usual four and a half hours. This trip was different though. This time I was going to do something that was long overdue. My husband is going home. I’m taking his ashes back to his home state of Indiana. I decided to spread part of his ashes on the Lake Michigan beach called The Dunes, where he grew up and spent a lot of time. He moved to Kentucky back in the early nineties but family is still there, and very close friends. We frequented his old haunts quite often throughout our more than two decades together. Chicago and northern Indiana was a trip we traveled often.
Going Home After 2 Years
The morning came and I woke up more anxious. I’ve never had negative feelings about putting him somewhere and although I know and love his family, I think having them all in one place and the actual experience of saying goodbye is what put me on edge. The finality. As I said, this was long overdue. We all gathered a little after 7pm.
Some friends and family members I had seen recently, some not. The homecoming was good. It was peaceful. He would have approved. There at dusk, we stood in a circle and told stories about him like he was truly gone, but yet not really. The way I have felt for two years, others shared my feelings. The exact same feeling. I’m always astounded in hearing how much he touched lives. Lives that I was completely unaware. There is always a story somewhere that surprises me. This gathering was no different. The loss was apparent. Brother, son, friend, uncle, father, they all were there. The life of this man cut so short. The pain I experience is also experienced by each and every person attending this gathering. The relationship may be different but loss is universal to the human existence.
Afterwards
The whole thing, I hate to call it a ceremony, I don’t think he would approve of anything formal and I just want to call it going home. Anyway, the whole thing lasted longer than I expected. It was way more emotional than I expected also. At the end I put him in the sand. No prophetic words, nothing. I had nothing to say. I’ve already said it all. I still say it, I can’t believe a life is over. His life. Our life. My hope is that one day, when all of the ashes are gone, I will find peace.
Tell Me Something Good