Jack of Harts

I had a quiet Independence Day. Stayed at home, rested, and didn’t set off any fireworks. I normally do, but didn’t really feel like it this year. I did however step outside the house to watch my neighbors three houses down set off their fireworks. Nice big ones. Big booms up in the air. And then a big boom on the ground. In the middle of the crowd. I watched them scatter and run as the explosions followed them. With one final explosion going the other way into the middle of the street. Their reaction after the screaming ended was to laugh like drunken fools. At which point, I decided three houses was not far enough away and decided to go back inside for my own safety. Hope you all made it through with your fingers and toes intact.

Thank you to everybody who showed up for mom’s remembrance. Family. Friends. You came. You talked. You laughed. It was good to see all of you together in one room. You all cared about mom and me enough to come and make the day brighter. I will never forget that. And I’m sure she was watching as well and loved seeing you all there. Thank you.

So I picked up my mom’s ashes yesterday. She wanted to be cremated. I’m sure part of the reason was because it was cheaper. But another definitely is that she had plans for her ashes. We will follow through on those plans before the burial ceremony on the 16th. And then we will have the ceremony and bury the rest of her ashes within sight of where her mom and dad are buried. And her grand parents. Where our family has been buried since the first of them came here. That’s the plan. And picking up the ashes is just one step in that plan. Right? You go to some industrial part of town, go to a nameless industrial building with a big number, drop down a credit card to pay, and walk out. Easy peasy. Right? Wrong. So wrong. I wanted to bring mom home. To live comfortably for the rest of her days. I didn’t want to bring her ashes home. I never wanted that. I never… ever wanted that…