Grandma's smile

Mom died in 1998. Her wish was to be cremated, but she gave no indication of where she wanted the ashes to go. Being the eldest, the contents defaulted to me. I took the box, wrapped it in my Ireland flag and stuck it in the one dresser drawer that had space-- my underwear drawer.

Those who knew my mom will appreciate that putting her among my Fruit of the Looms was somehow appropriate. Probably the best example I can use to illustrate why I would say that is this story of a time several of us were sitting around the kitchen table of the house that seven kids grew up in, and four were still living in. Someone was talking about another woman's house and how immaculate it was kept. The old saying, "It was so clean you could eat off her floors" was used to make the point. Mom, not missing a beat, said, "You can eat off my floors too-- there's enough food down there."  She was the most unpretentious person I've known and what better resting place than... Well, not a permanent resting place; it was just temporary.

Anyway, the seven of us talked a few times about what should be done. There was never a consensus, but there was at least one person who felt mom would be better honored in a green faux marble urn on a mantle. And so we did that.

Somewhere around the 12th anniversary of her death the subject came up for discussion again. It took a year, but three suggestions were offered: spread her ashes somewhere we could all agree on, bury them with my dad, or divide them and let each of the seven have his/her own piece of mom. Without a consensus, it looked like mom was going to be going in seven different directions-- just like when she was raising us! In early 2014 I finally retrieved the urn, divided and distributed the ashes.

It had been my wish from the beginning to spread mom's ashes at Dewey Lake in southwestern Michigan. You see, there is a resort there named Shady Shores that our family has been going to for four generations now. Mom and dad started taking us there on summer vacation in the early 1960s. I believe 1963 was our first year and what a great place it was to be a kid during summer. A sandy beach, a big slide (with a water pump at the top to wet the slide!), water skiing, row boats, fishing off the pier, bikes you could check out and take anywhere, ping-pong and pinball at the lodge, shuffleboard courts lit with bare yellow bulbs, a tennis court surrounded by tall pine trees, softball games every morning, planned activities every night, and plenty of other kids to hang around with made it the highlight of summer vacation every year. Oh, Shady Shores was idyllic in the 60s. And the funny thing is, it is still the same. There are no more planned activities and fewer people go there, but it still holds the magic. The memories are wonderful and may be better than the reality of a place that is really showing its age.  But the kids still feel the magic we did as kids. It is a place stuck in time. And that is what makes it magical.

So this year, with Misha and Sara having babies and Teresa going through treatments, only brother Brian and Cathy rented a cottage. But we planned a reunion for Friday 7/11/14 for all who could make it. And what a time we had! Roughly 30 of us invaded Shady Shores for a day filled with lake fun, time on a rented pontoon boat that any of the kids who wanted to drive had a chance, and a cookout.

The first group to go out on the boat with me was Terri, Teresa, Misha, Alex, Isabella, Geno, son John, Yuzenia, Saralyn, Mr Ben, Tim, Terri (sister), and Matthew. Just as our ride was getting started, Misha said, "This is great having everyone together. Grandma would have loved it."

I had a backpack on board with my share of mom's ashes inside that I had planned to sprinkle a portion of on the lake at some point during the day. Terri was the only other person who knew that and we had figured it would be a private moment. But, once Misha said that, I knew they all had to be a part of it too. We drove out to the middle of the lake and I stopped, cut the engine and let the boat drift. I asked Misha to repeat what she had said so everyone could hear. Then I told them about how grandma had brought us here so many years ago and now we were bringing her back to stay. I choked up (of course) and sprinkled some of her ashes in the lake. The box was passed around and everyone was invited to participate if they wanted to. Everyone did. And everyone was very quiet, solemn, and respectful of the moment. Tim also deposited the full contents of his container.

A little later I looked up as I was driving the boat and saw this rainbow. Out came the cameras and Tim's daughter Julie said, "It looks like a smile."

And I knew whose smile it was.


NOTE: I did not put all of my share of ashes in the lake because I am going to put a little here and a little there-- in places where I feel mom's presence, places where I have memories of her, and places that were important to her. I got the idea from a movie I watched and I urge everyone to see it. It's available at Red Box or Netflix on-demand. The movie is called The Way. It came out in 2010 and stars Martin Sheen and his son, Emilio Estevez.