Jack of Harts

My mom grew going to Star Lake every summer. The family farm was a few miles away, and they would swim there every night to wash off the residue of working on the farm. But she never had a boat ride on Star Lake. On Friday, her brother rectified that oversight. We took her ashes out on his boat and went by Camp Joy, the summer camp they attended throughout their youth. We went to the beaver dam where they swam as kids, and we jumped out of the boat to take one last swim with mom. And we took a picture of me and my uncle, recreating one of him and my mom in the back of the same boat four years ago. It was a good day. A beautiful day.

I buried my mom yesterday. Surrounded by family and friends. We had a good service with good music. We dug the hole and placed her in the ground. We ate some food and talked about her life. She’s not in pain anymore. That is a great blessing. And now it is time to go forward with life. There is life after death after all. We all go on. We all move on. My work, my family, and my friends have all helped me a great deal during this difficult time. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for everything you’ve done. I don’t know where I would be right now without you. Know that you have all made a difference. I will not forget.

Mom loved the lake country of Northern Minnesota. She grew up there, she swam in the lakes as a child, and when life took her away from that region, she continued to return in her adult life. She loved to visit her brother Duane, and the lake he lived on until his death. She loved spending time on lakes, and her screensaver was filled with pictures of them to remind her. Here she is pictured with her brother Arlan, on his boat. She loved the water. She loved boats. And I have no doubt she is spending time on the water right now.