Remembering my Mother

My Mother passed away from lung cancer in 2015, at the age of 72.

She was cremated, and we scattered her ashes on the mountain above where she had lived. I had originally wanted to divide the ashes. Some in the mountains, some on the beaches. My Wife, with a great deal of wisdom, dissuaded me. She pointed out that it would be like cutting up a body. An arm here, a leg there. A bit like something out of a serial killer crime novel. She was right.

Sitting quietly on a shelf behind the desk where I work is the toe tag from my Mother’s cremation and a clear quartz crystal. She loved crystals. Every time I notice it, I think of her.

There is another item that also reminds me of her. It is more interactive and uplifting. It used to sit on the coffee table in her lounge. Now, it rests on a sideboard in our dining room.

A heart-shaped bowl filled with small cards, each bearing an inspirational word.

Occasionally, when I pass by, I draw a card, meditate on the word, and remember my Mother.