Flinging Mom --

October 13, 2010

Today is my Mom's birthday. She would have been 88.

Her ashes have been sitting on the piano since they arrived here.

Yesterday I opened up the plastic urn containing them for the first time. Tipped it out of the inside mailing box (as opposed to the outside medium flat rate priority box in which they came)-and NOT accompanied by a shower of ashes as when we did that with my sister's container, the ashes which got sucked up in the Dust Buster, thank you, John.

I had decided to fling some of Mom's ashes today--seemed appropriate somehow... a re-birth day, as it were--but decided I'd better test myself--see how I handled it all. Did that yesterday. No problem.

Someone on my Rubberstampers list had given me a pretty decorated paper mache box, and I put the last of Glenn's ashes in there, then put some of Mom's ashes in and mixed them. Those are the ashes that will be buried near my sister at the little cemetery near Tyler. (Glenn: second husband; second great love of her life.)

And-since Mom seemed agreeable; i.e. open to change and adventure-I sprinkled some of her ashes under my mini-rose bush, and in the spot where the daisies grow tall once or twice a year. Part of her will always be nearby.

A large part of her cremains will be scattered in the Tyler area. She lived there for several years and liked it. (The mixed ones will still be buried, but the remainder will be scattered.)

Anyway, this morning I poured some cremains into a Ziploc bag (real classy), loaded Baxter into the truck, and we drove not far to the Springcreek Forest Preserve, which is really just a lot of trees with a stream at the bottom of the "canyon." Sides are too steep and dangerous to maneuver down, especially with an excited dog. And the stream is none too clean, but what're gonna do?

So we walked along the narrow little path; I finally found a place where I could get close to the edge without falling off-after I hooked Baxter's leash to a bush back aways. Just what I'd need was a crazy dog trying to get down the embankment to the stream.

In case you don't know, and this may be too much info, but cremains are not just "ashes." They're not a homogenous product, like a bag of sand. Fireplace ashes have bits and pieces of log remains. You take it from there.

Now, it was not windy. It did not even feel breezy. So-o-o-o… I opened the Ziploc, scooped out some of Mom (I'd brought along a disposable glove, okay?), and flung her. The next thing I knew, the lighter, dustier ashes were floating back at me. Before I could move away from the cloud, I inhaled some of Mom. She's probably still in my lungs!

After I recovered from that, I flung harder, and always stepped away from the dust cloud heading toward me. Some of the ashes splashed into stream, some landed on the embankment-and would wash down in the next rain. I apologized to her for the condition of the water, told her to have fun, and Baxter & I walked back the way we'd come.

We went home. I hosed the dust out of the Ziploc around the daisies-didn't want to just throw it out.

And since I'm actually writing this after Thanksgiving, I can tell you that the grave marker I ordered is now in place at the little country cemetery near Tyler-same one where Pop and Mother and John's grandparents are, and my sister Lynn's ashes. I had hoped we could get it done while John was off for Thanksgiving, but now it will be over Christmas.

That small mixture of Mom and Glenn will go in the same plot with Lynn. The marker reads:
Winklebleck
Mary and Glenn
Together Again
2010.

At least I hope it does!

Oh, and by the way, Petunia, the kitten I found in Terrell near Mom's apartment when she lived there, the one whose name is the result of Mom's input, and who Mom was partial to-Petunia, when she gets to go into the backyard and is not catching bugs, toads, and whatever else she finds-often likes to curl up and nap right near those daisies. So I like to think she's snuggling up to Mom.