Scattering Mom, one scoop at a time
Bay Lake at Walt Disney World.
When my dad died, we’d all switched to autopilot. Mourners at the house. A guest book in the foyer. Deli trays. Sheet cake. A casket. A grave. Not long after, my mom told my sister and me, “None of that when I die. Just have me cremated and scatter me all over.”
To punctuate the sentiment, she cracked open a beer. We toasted to Dad and to scattering.
Ten years later, my sister and I sat in the cool, muted lobby of a funeral home. “They’re just going to bring her out?” I whispered. But then a solemn man walked toward us, carrying my mother’s remains in a box. He handed it to me gently, and I had to take it. It was small but heavy.
Later, in the parking lot, we encountered our first dilemma: Where would Mom ride?
The floor? That didn’t seem appropriate. The trunk? Yeah — if we wanted her to come back and haunt us. I figured the back seat would be best, but I worried what might happen if I slammed on the brakes.
So, I put Mom on the seat and strapped her in.
When we got to the house, I carried the box inside, and we faced the emptiness of having Mom without actually having her. I stood in the kitchen, holding the box and mumbling. “Maybe the mantle?”
But, it turned out that if we put Mom on the mantle, we couldn’t see the television. And, as my sister noted, Dancing with the Stars was on at 7 p.m.
“She loved that show,” my sister said.
We put Mom on the table near her favorite chair, and the three of us watched Dancing with the Stars together.
As time went by, we grew used to and fond of the small, black box near the chair. Once or twice a day, we’d wonder what Mom meant by “scatter me all over.” Then, on a warm afternoon, I found inspiration in a stack of receipts.
My mom had reservations for a Disney vacation, and the trip was just one month away.
I told my sister, “We’re going to Florida, and we’re taking Mom.” We high-fived and felt pretty pleased. How right. How cool.
Wait. How would we manage?
Obviously, the box wasn’t making the trip. Just some of the ashes would be making the trip. Someone was going to have to get some ashes out of the box.
We put it off as long as we could, but eventually the day came when we had to scoop up a little of Mom.
I waited until the car was packed, and then I opened the box. The ashes weren’t what I’d expected. They were gritty, not uniform in color or size, but beautiful. Seeing them felt like a small victory — one threshold crossed.
Then I looked at my empty hands and realized I should have bought some sort of scooping device the last time I was at Wal-Mart.
My sister urged me to hurry. So, I opened a drawer and grabbed the one thing that looked right — a measuring cup. I scooped some ashes into a Ziploc, double-bagged my mom, and tucked the measuring cup into the box for future scooping.
(Another dilemma: How to pack her? Ultimately, I put the Ziploc in my checked bag. I didn’t like the thought of my mother as potentially lost luggage, but I really didn’t want to put her in my purse. Or explain her to airport security. Or have her confiscated by airport security.)
On our last night in Disney World, my sister and I worked up the courage to scatter. We took three beers — one for each of us — and we walked to the end of a long pier on Bay Lake. The moon was out, and the pier was lit from beneath. Everything around us had a faint glow.
“Mom, you would have loved this trip,” my sister said, tipping her bottle toward the sky. We told my mother that we missed and loved her. Then, we poured her ashes into the water, and we poured a beer in, too.
Scattering Mom had turned out to be really fun.
As we walked back toward the beach, my sister said, “Where should we take her next?”
Epilogue
A few weeks later, the kids and I spent Thanksgiving with my sister at my mom’s house. Mom had always visited Ann Arbor for Thanksgiving and made the pecan pie with my daughter. Now, my daughter soldiered on alone, placing ingredients on the counter and digging around for supplies.
She looked perplexed. “I need a cup of sugar,” she said, and at first I didn’t see the problem. But after a moment, I understood. She couldn’t find a measuring cup.
There was exactly one measuring cup in the whole house, and it was in the box with my mom. For future scooping.
Another dilemma.
Heather Heath Chapman lives in Ann Arbor with her husband and children. You may reach her at heatherchapman1@me.com.
Comments
Digger
Sun, Jan 23, 2011 : 4:28 p.m.
Great article Heather. We are both in our late 60's and have Living Wills specifically stating our wishes similar to your mothers. Unfortunately our families, both of whom are very traditional regarding passing, don't seem to be able to grasp our thoughts. In an effort to provide them a clearer understanding, of a situation that legally cannot be changed, we have forwarded your article to them....Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us.
David Briegel
Sun, Jan 23, 2011 : 12:58 a.m.
Wystan, that must be where they got the idea for The Big Lebowski! John Goodman and Jeff Bridges were hysterical! I really enjoy the writings by Heather and I forwarded this to several friends and relatives. I have discussed my wishes with my daughters. Newbster, I really like your attitude and outlook!
Wystan Stevens
Sat, Jan 22, 2011 : 10:09 p.m.
In his autobiography, the famous U-M neurosurgeon Edgar Kahn wrote about the colleagues of another Michigan faculty man who endeavored to fill their friend's dying request to be scattered over the beautiful Arboretum -- from an airplane. One of them was a pilot, so they took off from the Ann Arbor airport, climbing aloft in the tiny Piper (or whatever it was) for a ceremonial distribution of the ashes. As they approached the Arb, the plane dipped low, a window was opened and the box was unlatched. The ashes poured out -- and were blown right back into the plane by the fierce wind of the slipstream. I don't have the book at hand, but as I recall, Kahn said that the cloud of ashes covered everything, including the windshield, making it difficult to steer the plane. Part of the dust cloud was inhaled by the passengers. . . .
alnan
Sat, Jan 22, 2011 : 9:24 p.m.
Heather, a most sensitive article regarding scattering the remains. My condolences for your loss. Just wanted to share my own experience with "scattering". My mom passed away in 1984. We chose to donate her body to the University of Michigan. Several years later the remains were returned to us for burial. And she then remained in our bedroom closet until recently when we had her buried in the Cemetary where her parents and other family members are buried and on a separate lot next to my biological father who passed away when I was but a 15 month old baby. In 2010 our youngest son passed away and three months later my dear husband of 57 years also went to heaven. Currently they are both residing in my closet waiting for the rest of us to decided how, when or where to scatter them. Thanks for your ongoing humor in your family articles . They are wonderful to read and bring life events to us with love and humor. You must have had a wonderful mother!!
GRANDPABOB
Sat, Jan 22, 2011 : 1:27 p.m.
A friend of mine handed out little containers ,similar to the ones you see for pills that you hang around your neck. That way everyone that wanted to could have a little to remember her by. Don't remember where he found them .
MyView
Sat, Jan 22, 2011 : 1:05 p.m.
Thank you for writing this article. It brought a chuckle to my lips and a tear to my eye.
Advo
Sat, Jan 22, 2011 : 6:13 a.m.
Advo Heather, loved your story too. Would be nice if it could be included in a textbook or manual on the right of cremation. My wife of almost 56 years passed away three months ago and was cremated. We had made the decision on our final arrangements many years ago. She had a beautiful, dignified church service, We will bury her cremains in the spring and when ever I check out my cremains will be buried in the same grave. My father passed away in 1982 and we scattered his cremains over his homestead. This might have been violating the law, but they will have some difficulty finding the evidence. One advantage to cremation is the cost. The savings then can be forwarded on to your church, house of worship, charitable organizations, family, or what ever.
actionjackson
Sat, Jan 22, 2011 : 12:33 a.m.
There was a glass maker at the Ann Arbor Art Fair a couple of years ago that was using the ashes in a glass making form that was really cool. I kept their card and thought it was a fine idea for some. Our family has always decided cremation to be the best alternative and as far as I'm concerned do what you want with the ashes, I'll never know. Thanks for the article.
Barb Roether
Fri, Jan 21, 2011 : 7:42 p.m.
Great article and thanks for sharing. I have told my boys to have me made into a charge card so they would never forget me. Seems they can make jewelry from the ashes, why not a charge.
Reid Reynolds
Fri, Jan 21, 2011 : 4:44 p.m.
This is such a thoughtful column, thank you, Heather. It lifted my sadness and gave me a whole better prospective of the box in the closet. My parent in the box would have so appreciated and been so amused by your column. I can now get on with the scattering! Thanks again.
dks
Fri, Jan 21, 2011 : 2:29 p.m.
Heather, thank you for your bravery in sharing this painful time with your readers. I cannot be the only one who follows your column who was shocked and saddened by your mother's sudden death, even though I don't know you personally. That's a testament to your skill as a writer, and your ability to draw me in to your personal life with your wonderful columns. Take care.
Jeff Renner
Fri, Jan 21, 2011 : 3:30 p.m.
DKS - You've expressed my thoughts perfectly.
limmy
Fri, Jan 21, 2011 : 1:41 p.m.
I loved this story.
Newbster
Fri, Jan 21, 2011 : 12:34 p.m.
I kind of wince when I read when people tell others that they scattered ashes as when my parents died (mind you this was back in Indiana 15 and 18 years ago), we were told it was illegal to scatter ashes. Seems crazy as you hear about people doing it and see it on TV and in the movies all the time. When I questioned them as to WHY it was illegal they mentioned something about the fact that "in the old days" the ashes weren't nearly as fine as now. They claimed after cremation the bones are actually then pulverized. Before the pulverization was implemented the bone fragments were much larger and when people "scattered" them some had been discovered at a later date and were then processed as possible murder scenes. I'd love to know the truth or if this particular funeral home (which I didn't care for), was actually pulling our legs. Further follow up from the author of the article might be interesting..... As for me, when I die I told my husband to take "his new girlfriend" and go on a nice trip to some of my favorite places (Lake Tahoe, the Blue Ridge Mtns, etc) and sprinkle a bit of me along the way. I figure if the new girlfriend didn't mind, she's the right one for him! ;-)