Andy's Ashes

Finally, six years after his death while awaiting an organ transplant, we were able to place son Andy's Cremains (that's what they call them now, although we've been saying Andy's ashes) in the family plot at Fairmount Cemetery here in Maine.

His widow had told me they brought her someone else's ashes, which brought her to the edge, and somehow made it impossible for her to retrieve the correct urn. Since the owner of the funeral home is a dear friend of mine, I called him and his associate called back to say the ashes were LOST! But would I please pay the outstanding bill. HUH?

Waiting for my friend to return from vacation and call me, I had also talked to an attorney friend who suggested we get the funeral home to forgive the balance owed since they'd lost the cremains. As it turned out, they were NOT lost after all, but had gone into long-term storage. Whew!

Yesterday, with just our family standing there, we placed the cremains into the family plot, ordering a flat marker which will be put in this coming week. We said our final goodbye, reciting the 23rd psalm. Now there is a place for family to visit with Andy, to talk to him and tell his nieces and nephews, and their eventual families, about him.

Headstones were the original geneological accounts; I know there's a tendency to scatter ashes at sea or mountaintop. So be it. I needed this (brace for cliche') closure.