A Flag Day Birthday

Preparing to scatter the ashes

My favorite aunt died a couple years ago. Her birthday was June 14th, which also happens to be Flag Day. It is easy to remember the birth date of people born on a holiday. My aunt was in her late seventies when she died. She lived in Arizona and I had not seen her for over forty years. She wanted it that way. She made a decision to remove herself from our family for reasons that I have never fully understood but, over time, came to accept. I miss her.

She had grown up with a mentally and physically abusive father. She was married once but the marriage ended in divorce. It was then that she left the city she had lived in for her entire life and headed first to Texas then on to Arizona. She struggled with alcoholism for years but through AA she was clean and sober for the last 15 to 20 years of her life. I kept in touch with her by telephone and letters but she never wanted me to visit in person. I respected that even though I would have loved to spend time with her.

My sister and I went to Arizona together to clean up June's affairs and scatter her ashes. Her caregiver drove us to the area my aunt wanted to be scattered. June's best friend went with us and it was good to hear bits and pieces of the life she had created for herself in Arizona. She was well known in AA and had sponsored many people in their journey of recovery. She had good friends and a dog who loved her unconditionally. Life was good.

As I threw ashes into the wind on that cool sunny day I let myself relive so many wonderful memories of my life and times with Aunt Junie. Spending weekends with her at her lake house, swimming and skiing. She introduced me to my first love, you know, the one you never forget. She taught me how to drive a car. She taught me how to drive her fishing boat and how to head into waves so I wouldn't capsize. Lots of flashes of memory rushed through my mind and then the ashes were gone...all scattered.

Rest in peace dear Aunt Junie. You were loved and you live on in my heart.

Memorial Day Memory

The three day Memorial Day weekend means different things to different people. We all know that the purpose of the holiday is to honor all the brave men and women who have made the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom. They went off to war and came home in flag draped coffins. Many parents, wives, husbands, children and friends will place flowers and flags on the graves of their beloved this weekend. A time for remembering and a day to offer prayers of protection for all the soldiers currently stationed in far away places and hoping they will come home soon.

To many people the long weekend spells fun. Spring is slowly fading and summer is almost here. There are get togethers with family and friends, outdoor barbecues, picnics at the lake and endless other possibilities. A few days to relax.

For my family Memorial Day brings back other memories. My father died on Memorial Day weekend in 1981. It's hard to believe 28 years have come and gone since that dreadful day. It came as quite a shock. Dad was only 59 years old and had never been sick. Well, maybe the occasional cold or flu but nothing serious. In the years since he passed I have come to realize how lucky he was to go so quickly instead of growing old and feeble. He was able to live life to the fullest right up until the day he died.

The greatest love in his life, other then my mom, my sister, me and my son, was sailing. On Memorial weekend he was sailing in a regatta at the lake where they lived in Missouri. We think he knew he was about to leave this life because he turned to mom and told her how happy he was to have been with her for their 35 years of marriage. He asked her if she was ready to go about. In sailing terms that means to turn the boat in another direction. That seems ironic. She said yes. As he pushed the tiller he fell forward into the bottom of the boat. He was having a heart attack. He died before he reached the hospital. He died doing what he enjoyed most. What a blessing!