I am where your ashes are spread, the cold grass sparkling with dew, while the flat rock leading into the river digs into my bare knees. It's odd to feel pain in my physical body as I sit in the same spot my own ashes will join yours; something I thought I would have decades more to think about. I understand why you chose this abandoned piece of the Escanaba River where you used to trout fish before I was even a thought in your mind. The pink hues of the sun reflecting on the glass river remind me of the beauty that awaits me where I am going. Rings from water bugs hunting on the surface remind me of all of the lives our own ripples touch. I wonder for a moment how I will be remembered, but the geese honking above me with no idea I am below them, reminds me it is none of my business. All I can hope is that:
The one I loved the most knows that he was my world and I will watch over him through the sun as it rises every day.
The lives I touched through ripple after ripple know that I only ever had good intentions and I am so sorry if I ever caused them pain.
The ones that loved me know that I am with them in the obnoxious laughs they hear in the airport, the NYC skyline, the waves as they hit the shore in Ocean Ridge. They feel my bony fingers wrap around theirs from the passenger side of the card after they've had a rough day. When they are a the Rabbit Hole they have a pumpkin spice martini for me, and always order the red curry from Mr. Yum's. They stop life every now and then to drive down to Miami and have a black colada from Versailles before a Hurricanes' game.
As the river becomes darker and it is harder to see beyond its bend, peace consumes me. I don't need to know what is in the dark because I have fully surrendered to God's plan among the ghosts of your ashes. I will do the job He needs me to do, and then accept my un-waking eyes as the snow falls on an un-expecting winter day. I will drift down the same current to meet you on the other side.