After mentioning it in the poem, I'd meant to elaborate a little on my thoughts the day I took Hubby-head's ashes to release them into the Pacific... but then other things were on my mind, and it didn't really seem like the time to bring it back up again until now - for two reasons.
First, it's fresh in my memory today after a conversation I had with my pastor's wife yesterday. We were discussing the memorial garden my mom's church is creating for Jason, and she asked whether I still had his ashes, thinking that would be a good place to bury them. When I explained what I'd done, she mentioned that she'd had her mother cremated when she passed away several years ago, and picked out a lovely decorative box for them. Her father recently suggested that she and her husband take the ashes with them on their next trip to Israel, as he thought his late wife would have appreciated the idea of being scattered in the Holy Land, or perhaps at the World Prayer Center in Colorado as she was an intercessor.
In either event, she said she would have a very hard time forcing herself to scatter her mother's ashes, even after several years... and I can see that. It was quite difficult for me as well, but I wanted to perform the task while I had my best friend with me for support, and our most recent trip to LA was the perfect time.
The other reason it's on my mind is my previous post about the Narnia Chronicles. While I do love the rich symbolism in "The Last Battle", my absolute favorite of the Chronicles is "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader" (and the movie is next up - I can't wait!). For those who haven't read the book, I hope I don't give away too much information when I explain the relevance.
You see, in the book we discover that the world of Narnia is flat - not round like our Earth - and from Narnia if you sail eastward, after you come to a series of uncharted islands, eventually legend has it that you will reach Aslan's Country (the Narnian concept of heaven). I'd just re-read Dawn Treader recently, and as I stood with the bag of his ashes on a large rock where the rolling tide came in to meet me, at a rather deserted section of beach (a rarity in Southern California), a fanciful thought crossed my mind.
If this were Narnia, and I were facing east... releasing his ashes into the waves, eventually they would be carried to the shore of Aslan's Country. And while I know the difference between reality and fantasy fiction, there is such symbolism in the world of Narnia. My act of releasing what was left of my beloved into the sea was symbolic, releasing him into God's hands, trusting that the currents would carry what was left of him to his true home.