There we were on the beach saying a prayer, just Bette’s children and sister and brothers with the wonderful Rev. Paige Fisher on a cloudy, cool Saturday morning.
Then there we were in the icy cold Cape Cod water, flinging Bette’s ashes every which way, yelping like sea lion pups. Laughing. Screaming from the cold. Smiling from a joy that blew in from who knows where.
We thought this day would be unbearably sad, our final goodbye. Instead the day was a release. We put Mom’s ashes into small plastic cups, swam out and flung them into the unusually gusty June winds, along with our grief. Good thing the wind was blowing out to sea, towards the Vineyard instead of towards us.
This is exactly what Bette would have wanted. All of us together, finding happiness instead of moping around. Sometimes it bothered us that Bette would block difficult memories, talking only about the good, dismissing those who insisted on dwelling on the negative as “ridiculous.”
Now we know.
Grieving is so personal. There’s no advice I can share, really, except to reflect on how the person you have lost lived life at his or her best, and make those qualities part of your life. It’s the greatest praise to the deceased, and the greatest gift to yourself.
