The Aftermath of Part 1... Caring For His Body... Scattering His Ashes

When Tim died it was way too late to do him much good, but I wanted to do what I could do. I had been steeped deeply in natural spiritual ways, for quite some time now, as had he, so I knew about "ritual"... it's not such a mysterious thing, ritual... ritual is just what we all do, every day that we live and breathe, that gets us through our days. Any individuals ritual might be different from your own, depending on what your life's experience requires. I learned that ritual makes Spirit come alive... and Dance like the Beautiful Flame that it is. It brings Heaven down to Earth... or hell from below, whatever your ritual is. For myself, it makes semi-tangible, that which we cannot see, only feel. I say semi-tangible, because it can never be truly touched, so illusive it truly is. Sometimes it is helpful to create our own rituals... there is nothing wrong with that; instead, there is something powerful in that.

I could not bare to think of him as being boxed up in some metal case, never able to return to the Air and the Earth. I could not bare to think of others hands caring for him, in those last remaining moments that his body remained on Earth... especially when I felt it had been my own that had taken him from this Earth... back then. He deserved the last that I could do for him, now... to send him off, gently, with Love, tender affections, and great care.

My sister stood nearby, helping when needed, as I bathed him in sandalwood soap. They tried to talk me out of it, that's what they are for, they had said... I would not be able to handle this, they said, I would not want to see him that way, they insisted... but, I would not listen, my sister told them, and they relented. I knew what I wanted. I couldn't withstand this? Look what he had withstood... this was nothing... but the last thing I could do for him, in the flesh. Our society has lost it's touch with the humanity that used to exist in dealing with the death of our loved ones. We have made the whole process less than human, as if death of the body does not really exist, or a thing that we should not behold. My sisters, in spirit, had washed the body of their loved one, I would do the same for mine.

He was sparkling and scented, and ready for his transformation... he had all the things with him, that he could not seem to ever do without, with a variety of roses placed strategically about, and a lock of my hair behind his ear, a guitar pick between his fingers. Beach sand at his feet, and the scent of coconut, everywhere, that he loved so well, to help carry him there. I placed his engagement ring on his pinkie, tied a piece of lavender around his wedding ring finger, and tied one around mine, too. Sweet sage and cedar was burning, as I said goodbye to each precious part of him, held him for one last time, with these swiftly passing moments, just single moments left to place my head on his chest, one last time, or run my hand across his now gentle and peaceful face... Pachelbel's Cannon, our song, from long winter nights in front of the fire, playing softly in the background.

I had to wait till Spring, but I went to the coast on that day... the day that he had told his brother about, the day when we would have been rightfully wed, the day that we had already celebrated as an anniversary, back then... and I scattered him to the Winds, my portion... the rest had left for California, to be later scattered, there.

This is as it was written then, with a few copy and paste actions evident, and left this way for my own record. I will also share, later, the majic that I experienced when the other portion was scattered in California... it was as though I had walked into a beautiful dream.


From: Sun Glider (Original Message) Sent: 5/3/2005 11:20 PM
From: Winged One Sent: 4/25/2005 9:45 AM

The Spirit of Wind came to greet you and me, and carry you along, on this portion of your Journey.

April 23, 2005, you became Light Wind again, in your Journey back to the Earth and Sea. I dug a pit in the sand, burning sage and lavender, to make myself worthy of the Peace... and to prepare you to Soar way up high. When I turned to face the ocean, your ashes in hand, All became very ethereal-like... and you were grabbed up and taken along, scattering yourself with the air, and sand, and bits of broken shell. I could see you skipping across the waves, and there was great comfort in me. And there was great mourning inside of me, too. Great, long fingers of Wind ran along the shore, gathering up random brothers, along the way... and you were off to many new and greater things.

For myself, I washed the lace curtain in the ocean water, and let it flap in the Wind, soaring just inches above the salty Sea... washing away the death off of me, the watery blood, given back to the sea.

Now, let there be Peace between you and me... and let this death be, forevermore, lifted off of me... and let the Love remain inside of me... and the Joy that your Love brings.

Winged One