Sunday, July 10, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Lake Trash, Fishing, Jefferson, Angels, Death, Garbage Truck, Mom... (I think the technical term for what takes place in my head is called Associated Looseness)
Ironic, I love memorials so much, but I want to be cremated. So does my husband. I have no special requests... or at least I didn't. Always figured you can mix me with clay and make me into an ash tray for all I care. But my husband said the most romantic thing to me the other day. :) He wants to mix our ashes. Seriously.. can ya get any more romantic than that? I think not! We plan to keep the other's ashes and when the survivor passes... have them mixed together (Ryan, this will be your job). A mixtures of his & hers. That is TRUE love. My husband wants them to go in the Atchafalaya Basin (Also your job Ryan). Death will imitate life... I always tell him, " I do what you do". Let me just add though....that I will be furious if I'm the one that goes first, he remarries and my ashes end up in a garbage truck. ( Like how I went from the lake to Jefferson to death to being thrown in a garbage truck? I know... it's a gift. HA!) And no Honey... we can't all three be mixed together. I know, every man's fantasy, right?
I dusted Mom the other day. Her ashes sit on a table in the foyer (or as we plain folk call it, the doorway) area. I have to take them where she wanted to go. I don't look at the urn and cry or anything. It's the actual "letting go" and the act of taking the ashes out there that has me procrastinating. Surely Mom would have understood and not minded spending a bit of time on the shelf overlooking her daughter's living room. I used Pledge. If you're curious. To dust the urn. It's wood.
I'll need a look out, while I spread the ashes. This could include a cute bright orange jumpsuit!!! Any takers?
(just an added note: if you google anything with the word "looseness" in it... you'll find interesting data on bowels, vaginas and such,..)