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I have returned from the scattering of the ashes. Breakfast was uncomfortable and awkward. We had to pay $17.50AUD for a buffet, which by the time I got to have my food, was no food there.. so I feel a tad bit ripped off. My other half has the flu, so it was general misery all round. I tried to talk, but no one was interested in talking to me, I don’t think it was a problem because of me, but more like no one wanted to “talk” so chatter was vapid.
We drove down to the beach at Mosman Park and wandered down to the shore in pairs, virtually everyone had a partner/wife/husband etc.. I remember how when I was younger there were fewer of us, just 6 children 10 adults, now there’s 25. The sun was bright and hot, sluggish cool breeze which didn’t offset the heat really. So everyone stood around and discussed the merits of which side we should throw the ashes, the stone groyne extends about 40 metres or there abouts into the ocean, with a sandy/seaweed beach on one side and rocks on the other.. The rocky side was chosen, more water.. looked prettier. Everyone moved to stand around on the rocks overlooking the water except for me.
I had Terry saying, “come on over here”. I was replying without wanting to be rude “no its ok - I am happy here”, then one of my cousins walked around and tried to convince me that it was ok, sand and stuff there. They just didn’t get it. I don’t need to stand that close and not see the ashes poured. Grief is personal, I did the group thing at the funeral. This was my time to watch it. It was beautiful tho… Uncle David climbing down to the water line, roses and carnations thrown into the water as gran’s ashes were poured, and the rosepetals emptied in.. The dark water was awash with colour; red, yellow, white and pink petals.. being stretched out as the tide took it out to sea.
Whilst this was happening, an old man with two dogs walked past, watched and then as he was leaving said, Dust to Dust. I stared out over the water to where my family stood, scattered amongst the rocks, solitary in those moments as we watched the flowers drift. It was a truly beautiful moment. Despite the fact I didn’t want to go, and relive the grief, even gran would have appreciated the gesture. It went from being corny to beautiful, and my family were transported to my mind as being story book perfect. If I ever learn to paint, then I would paint the scene that I was standing before, whilst everyone had the same image on their rocks, mine will be unique.
Afterwards when champagne was passed around, Uncle David and another uncle were stood close by, and David lowered his voice, and said, “There was alot of ash wasn’t there”
My other uncle nodded and replied in his thick scottish brogue “yes there was, quite remarkable really” I’d have to agree.. it was remarkable.