Yesterday I was transferring some old cassette tapes to CDs when I came upon some Indian flute music. I remembered buying that to take to Phoenix for John, who did not attend our mother's memorial service, such as it was. Bob, Candy and I picked up John, then borrowed a Bible from one of John's friends (she was not home but her house was open!) and went to a park near where John lived. We had some of Mom's ashes with us - half of them we spread on a golf course at a hole where she had hit her first hole in one. We selected a spot under an olive tree - it seemed apt because Mom lived her martinis! We played the Indian flute music on a small tape recorder. Candy read a Biblical passage that we had trouble finding because none of us knew the Good Book very well - my only knowledge being the Book of Job, which did not seem appropriate.
Playing the tape as I recorded it brought back the moment. It was a very "John experience," full of humor, somewhat mystical at the same time, with the family brought together in what appears to be the only way we come together - to celebrate after a loss.