The Scattering of Jody’s Ashes

Fourteen of us came together yesterday, joining Jody in a celebration of life.  Her beloved rosebushes came into bloom on Thursday.  Life is timing.  Thanks, Jodiette.

Last week, I was walking with my friend Pat on the beach at Port Stanley.  I could feel grumpiness coming on as the sand on my bare feet gave way to a surface of pebbles.  On went the sandals.  Then I saw Pat bending down to pick something up.  It was an exquisite heart-shaped stone.  “For you.”

As we fourteen stood facing Jody’s rosebushes, I pulled the stone from my pocket.  Love had moved from Pat to me to Jody and ever outwards.  I placed our stone in a bowl of branches, surrounded by blossoms.  I started crying for my lovely wife.

My friend Theresa sang a sweet song about love, flowers, sun and rain.  I can’t remember the words.  The mist was gently falling as she began and the sun burst through as she ended.  Thank you, Jodiette.

My friend Adele sent me an e-mail after our ceremony.  “Today was a truly moving day….all about LOVE!  Jody was there, in the trees, in the rain, in the gentle breeze, in the bird’s song…she was there!”  So true.  Last night, Jody thanked me for drifting her soul over her roses.  Home.  I love you so much, my wife.  I miss you.

Inside our home, I had lit 70 candles for Jody.  Actually, Theresa lit the last few, including four red cubes that sit on my chest-of-drawers … L-O-V-E.  She asked me whether I’d like her to bring them into our living room.  I said no.  Our bedroom is a sacred space.  An hour later, I checked on them.  Wax had dripped down the drawers, with frozen streams hanging from the handles, and a puddle on the carpet.  I just stared.  Something big was happening, but my small mind started shutting it down with a burst of “How do I clean this up?”  Happily, I didn’t clean it up.  That will be for another day.  I saw my tears for Jody, and my bright red love for her.  And I saw her love flowing over me.

After everyone had gone, I stood before Jody’s roses.  I saw ashes on the end of a branch that had been pruned.  I gathered them between my right thumb and forefinger and placed them in the palm of my left hand.  I cupped my right hand over and talked to my dear wife.  I don’t remember what I said but it was love.  I uncovered Jody’s ashes, paused and blew her into the world.