The Beginning. . .Not The End

In the moonlit night I walked down to the shore’s edge, my heart splintering with every step. I pried open the urn and let his ashes drift with the wind out to the ocean. Sobbing, I walked along the empty beach front until the urn emptied. When it felt too light to even contain a feather, I hurled it into the ocean we loved so much until the urn disappeared.

Slow and steady, I closed the distance to the home we’d shared so many years where now another man and his grandchildren slept,  my mind as empty as the urn.

Ralph met me at the slider doors and I fell into his arms and cried; cried for my loss and what I’d just done. I staggered to my bed, dusted off my sandy feet and stifled sobs.

The bedroom door creaked open; Ralph appeared and said “Claire, I’m here for you so don’t be afraid.”

Too emotionally drained and too tired to say get the hell out, I closed my eyes and slept.

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36 thoughts on “The Beginning. . .Not The End

  1. I was at my nephew’s wedding last weekend on a beach. Although he didn’t scatter his dad’s ashes there, he had a vial of ashes in his pocket, so his dad could be at his wedding.

  2. A very poignant snippet. I felt I was with her. Saying goodbye is never easy. My siblings and I do not have ashes of our dad to carry with us, but every year on what would have been his birthday, we get together. We bake his favorite cake – German Chocolate cake – and as we enjoy a slice, we just talk. For those few hours, it’s like he’s with us. 🙂

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