Conversations With The Dead

Yesterday I went to the mortuary to pick up the remains of my son. I was curious as to how he would be presented to me and if a prayer would be said. I entered the solemn room, was greeted by the kind funeral director and she took me to a room where I signed a release for the remains. I also received the death certificate. She handed me a black box, showed me how to open it and as I saw the remains in a see-through plastic bag a fleeting thought ran through my mind. Just like a cake mix. Instantly, I erased the thought from my mind and realized that it was what was left of my son, a small bag of ashes.

As she explained everything to me in a soft voice, all I could think about was that I would never see my son again.

He was gone. The son that I loved and the son that made me angry. She placed the black box in a black tote-bag and handed it to me. "Oh," I said, "He is heavy." She said that remains are more of a consistency of sand and not as we think of ashes.

I left with my son and popped the trunk open but I could not put him in the trunk of my car. I slammed the trunk shut and placed him in the front seat next to me. It seemed quite normal to talk to him. "You don't have to worry about putting on the seat belt," I told him. "Look Andy, we are in your old stomping grounds. How many times did you drive down these streets? I wish things had been different and you had not liked drinking so much. I could never figure it out as you probably remember how many times I was on your case. You know that through our arguments I hope you knew how much I loved you. You know Andy, I want you to know that if I did anything to cause you to drink, I am sorry.  You were my first baby and I remember sitting in a rocking chair singing Puff the Magic Dragon to you. When your children were born, I think you realized how much your Dad and I loved you. We are having beautiful Indian summers and today is sunny. You probably already know that.  Oh well, as they say, you are now in a better place."

I continued the conversation with "Have you seen Mom and Dad yet? Have you run into Scott? Andy, I will always ask the question, why? You had so much to live for but that habit of drinking had you in its grip. You know you will always be in my heart and now you are at peace."

At home I placed the remains on a table, and every once in awhile I would speak to him. At seven I said, "We are going to watch Dancing With the Stars and stop rolling your eyes."  I told him good night and my usual, "sleep with the angels." Strange how comforting it was to speak to him. Made me feel good knowing he is near.

"Perhaps they are not stars,

but rather openings in heaven

where the love of our lost ones

pours through and shines

down upon us to let us know

they are happy."

Eskimo Proverb