It was a beautiful thought, really.
Robb’s grandparents had died earlier this year so we had joined some of their ashes to spread around the outside of the home that they had shared for their entire marriage. Great Grandpa John had even been born in this house.
As we walked over to the 100-year-old farm-house, Nora tripped and fell and began the process of trying to decide if she was hurt or not. Robb and I (trained in the art of minimizing hollering) probably said something like, “Nice crash!”
Nora decided that she might actually have an injury so she began to whimper a little. Grayson quickly turned around and helped her up and brushed her off and even admired her new scratch and I was reminded again about how he is sometimes a much better parent than me. Or he is just a huge sucker.
We made it over to the house and everyone in the family began to take a handful of ashes to scatter around the yard.
Grayson may have been a bit nervous about the whole thing. Because he kinda knew what was going on.
Nora wasn’t nervous. Because she obviously didn’t know what the heck was going on. But we thought it would be good for her to participate in this family celebration of life.
Which may have been a mistake.
She grabbed a great big handful of ashes.
Here I am documenting this beautiful symbol of family. Of love. Of the passage of time. Of multiple generations of family.
And then Nora…
put the ashes in her hair.
I’m not really sure what she thought it was but doesn’t she look absolutely gleeful?
There might have been some shrieking then. By me. By the bigger kids. I’m not really sure. But I think she kinda figured out that something was up when everyone simultaneously began to shout at her that she needed to get into the bathtub Right Away.
Here is her screaming, “I need a bath!”
It takes an incredible amount of soap to get human ash out of hair. Another fact that I never in a million years thought I would know.
I know that Robb’s grandparents were cracking up though, so I guess that’s all that matters.