The First Step on the Final Caregiving Journey as We Prepared to Spread Mom's Ashes

Dorian Martin Health Guide
  •             As we end each year and start a new one, I often try to reflect on what has happened and the impact that it had on me. Therefore, I hope you’ll indulge me in the next few columns as I (finally) cover Mom’s last journey.

    That journey officially began on July 31, 2008 when I pulled the canister with Mom’s remains from the top shelf of my front closet. Knowing that her ashes were there had served as a comfort during the past 10 months following her death on Sept. 29, 2007. I’d often find myself talking to Mom’s perch in the closet, stealing a glance when I’d get a coat out of the closet, or directing a question toward her in order to seek her wise guidance. And sometimes when Dad and I got into serious discussions, I’d offer to get Mom down from her shelf so she could take part.

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    So reaching up to the top shelf was one of those surprisingly difficult moments fraught with the realization that Mom wasn’t going to be there for me in some form. A day later, Mom’s ashes were packed in a carry-on bag on the first leg of Dad’s and my journey to Colorado. I’m still amazed at how much comfort I took in those 10 months before Mom’s ashes were spread in the Colorado Rockies. And since that late summer day, I sometimes catch myself looking up at the empty place where that black canister had resided during the year.


Published On: January 06, 2009