yesterday morning i picked up mom’s ashes at the funeral home. we have to take them to the cemetery tuesday for the service. the funeral home not transporting them there was not in the package deal my folks bought years ago. it’s fine with me. mom’s last ride will be with my dad, me, the brown eyed girl, one of my cousin’s and his wife.
at present, her urn is reposing in a cardboard wine box in the master bedroom over in cuca. the wine box made it easier to transport her yesterday. i’m figuring she doesn’t mind the wine box so much because last night was the best night’s sleep i’ve had in a long long time.
i have to tell you that i did have plans for some of mom’s ashes. i was going to remove some and sprinkle them in a nice vineyard that we pass by on occasion. you know one of those deals when you drive by and say, ‘hi, mom.’ then maybe wave a bit. i had also planned on leaving a few ashes in guasti. the old family home. planned being the operative word here.
the state and counties of california frown upon folks doing that sort of stuff with relatives or otherwise ashes. something i really don’t understand but whatever. state and county laws were not the reason i decided not to scatter a few of the ashes.
the highly polished square brass urn she’s in doesn’t seem like it would be very easy to open without leaving a trace. sorta like leaving scratches on a door lock that’s been picked. picked by even a master.
you see mom is going to be interred at riverside national cemetery. a veterans cemetery. mom gets in because of dad’s service during the big war.
i can see it now. we roll up to the cemetery and hand over the urn to whomever and they notice some scratches or maybe i couldn’t even get the urn to close after breaking into it. it would be like, ‘hmmm. it looks like the urn has been tampered with. i’m sorry but now we can’t bury it here. rules being rules and all.’ see what i’m saying? that would be a scenario right out of a bad movie. and something that i wouldn’t want to put dad through. so mom will sit in the bedroom, in her urn, in her wine box, undisturbed until tuesday morning and it’s time for that last ride.
another view from the old days.