Burying Mom

Barbara Ellen’s aging mom was buried the other day. Now comes the hard part.

Mom wanted to be planted in a box. Dad preferred cremation. So his nine-year-old ashes were put in the box with her. Her remains, that is, as hard as that idea would be to deal with under normal circumstances.

They are the lips that kissed us, the hands that caressed us, and the arms that encircled us when we needed them.

It was made “tremendously comforting,” however, by two dreams her Dad brought her shortly before Mom passed. One was of him telling her to get the dying over with and come along. Mom had the same dream that same night but it included the detail that he was waiting to go dancing. Bar’s other dream was of a crowd of people with him waiting for Mom to come along. She recognized some of them, including her great grandmother.

Still, Mom is gone from our sight and that is the hard part. After many months dying she is suddenly gone. Everything has changed.

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