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Amy Joy Suben's avatar

thank you......sending love

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Bethany's avatar

Cremation, embalming, ashes and the process of picking out containers to hold them. My dad too was reduced to scattered ashes in the end.

This beautiful writing all because you saw a set of numbers (the date). Our brains, our memory—fascinating isn’t it?

I have two dates in January that trigger emotions and memories, not really the good kind. It’s complicated. Ironically, I journaled right before the new year that I’d try to retrain my brain to see the numbers in a different light this year. I don’t know, like go hiking or skydiving. Attend a self care class—do something to change this particular set of numbers (1/14 and 1/21) when I see them.

Maybe I wont, maybe I’ll write a memory too.

Living, humaning — what a ‘ting…what a ‘ting…

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Journalisa's avatar

My baby brother died in 1993. Just the month prior he scattered our step-grandfather's ashes off a boat and said, "When I go, that's how I want to go." So he did. My folks sold their place in a cemetery and both went that way. All Jews. I still have the plastic container. I collaged over it. Beautifully written.

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Susan Weis-Bohlen's avatar

It seems ridiculous for me to hit "like" but you know what I mean. xo

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Cindy's avatar

Your dad had quite a journey - he would have been buried if the snow hadn't happened and his ashes would not have been spread on your grandparent graves. That they all are together again seems quite fitting. Thank you for the reminder about that blizzard - I have fond memories of my 5 year old and two dogs being thrilled (until they could no longer move through the snow).

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Susan Weis-Bohlen's avatar

Thank you!

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