Today I am heading up to Oregon again, this time with my mother and her dog. The purpose of this trip is to bury my stepfather’s ashes in the Flory family cemetery. Bob died four years ago, though somehow that doesn’t seem possible. At the time, the family was scattered. We waited a few months to do a memorial, and his ashes, aside from what Mom had sealed in a small urn, went with one of his sons.
The intent was always to bring him to the plot to be with his family, but Covid came and plans got postponed.
So on Friday, we will gather with his increasingly smaller family to say final farewells.
As always when something like this is happening, it stirs up memories. Bob was a good man who loved my mother. My favorite memories are from when the kids were small and he just delighted in teaching them things. They weren’t always as delighted, if I recall, but he would light up.
Bob was a geologist by trade, and so as tribute, I rummaged my altar box for a stone or two to contribute to the grave site. I grabbed a large crystal point and a chunk of obsidian.
I still need to shower, load the dishwasher and pack the cooler before I load up the car, then off to gather Mom and Missy for the long drive north. I don’t really know Bob’s family well, and that has my anxiety up, but I want to be there for Mom.
On Saturday, we’re going to Crater Lake, so watch this space for photos.
And that’s all there is in the land of Natalie, at least for now. I hope your day is spectacular, Readers!
Photo by Preston Pownell on Unsplash