Saturday

Last Saturday, I went with my Aunt Sista to spread the remainder of my Grandma's ashes as a Birthday gift (her birthday is on the 6th). She told me we were doing it so that, maybe, if the ashes were out of her house, she could stop having so many dreams about her (a few is ok, but every other night would pull at anyone's heartstrings).

With Grandma chilling in the backseat, we made it the cemetery where other members of my family lay. Grandpa Fletcher who I never met. Cousin Chris who passed away when I was too young to really get a clear picture of him (when I turned his age, which was during my high school years, I wondered what sort of relationship we would have--I'm confident it would have been like brothers). While drinking my new slimming tea, we unscrewed the mahogany box she was in and and released her ashes over her marker and around Grandpa, through the wind. The first time I dealt with cremated ashes, I was surprised to notice how grainy their were instead of the fine powder I expected. It reminded me that the body is made of bones and other tough material that enable us to get through this life and withstand all sorts of abuse.

The ashes got on my jeans, on my hanky, and on my mug. It reminded me of the scene from "Relax...It's Just Sex" when the cast released the ashes on the wind at the beach and it flew back into their faces. It wasn't a sad occassion in the movie, and it wasn't sad in my reality either.

I still miss Grandma, and while I can talk about her and of her without the tears, I wonder what life would be like if she were still here, and whether it would resemble this present in any sort of way. I know there are certain things I would've done and would not have done if she were still around, and the question of her approval wouldn't be so pressing for me, but, man, you can't question God like that.

So, because I communicate best through music, I dedicate this song to her memory, and to the hope of seeing her again some day.