On the one year anniversary of the car accident.
Yes, almost a year later.
Three hundred sixty-five days.
It took me a long time to figure out what exactly to do with his ashes.
He has been resting upstairs on his meditation table since September.
But what to do after that?
I never wanted him to be in a casket.
I hated the thought of it.
Not to mention the un-ecofriendliness of it and the cost.
And then the photos last year of the floating caskets in Texas. Oh the horror.
Roger and I had talked about it.
So I knew it was the right decision.
But we had never really talked about what to do after he was cremated.
[By the way, spread me into the ocean. Atlantic preferably. DO NOT PUT ME IN A CASKET!]
I debated evenly distributing him here at home near his banana trees, a little in Miami, a little in the ocean, and a little somewhere else.
Some people did not like that idea. They wanted him all in one place.
Okay. That's fine.
But then where?
Naples? Where he spent a lot of time as a kid with his family on vacation.
The Keys? Where he spent a lot of time fishing as a kid with his dad.
Gulf of Mexico?
There were lots of choices.
But nothing sounded perfect.
Nothing tickled my fancy.
And although I would not mind keeping him at home forever with me in a selfish way, some people did not like that idea either. Again, that's fine.
So I kept racking my brain.
Where o where should my husband lay?
In December, while visiting my good friend Jennifer she gave me an idea.
She told me how one of her aunt's ashes was buried on top of her other aunt's casket.
The perfect place instantly came to mind.
With Roger's dad.
He would love to be with his dad.
Roger loved his dad.
They were so close.
Roger dreamed of him often.
Even the week of the accident and last June.
Ironically they both died in car accidents.
Six and a half years apart.
I spoke to Grace, Roger's sister.
She thought it was an excellent idea.
We told his mom. She liked it.
Now, two months from now, his family, friends, and I will be burying him.
And in order to avoid making a "new" anniversary, I wanted to choose a day that already a meaning.
Thus the day of the accident.
It was my wonderful counselor's idea since I have such trouble with that week each month already.
So a year from the last day I talked to him.
The last day he told me he loved me.
The last day he was conscious.
I know I will cry.
I know I will cry a lot.
But I am also hoping to celebrate his life.
Celebrate who he was.
Not his death.
I want to hear stories about him. Familiar and new.
I want to hear the laughter of our friends and family.
I want to see the smiles as people remember him.
I want to remember him.
I want everyone to remember him.
The person he was.