This week, I finally scattered my mother's ashes in the surf at Dania Beach. Mother took us to Dania Beach every afternoon in the 1950's. This is the beach of my childhood.
It's been ten and a half years since my mother passed and I was surprised it made me so emotional to say goodbye again. I didn't expect after all this time, that the tears would roll down my cheeks like a flood. Anyway, as I was scattering her ashes in mid-thigh high water, boo-hooing like a baby, a big wave came along and smacked me in the butt, soaking me with salt water, seaweed and ashes. I had to laugh. Mother got the last word.
I drove all the way back home, about 300 miles, in salty, damp shorts with a touch of Mother. It was a comfort and it makes me smile.
You always miss your mother.
It's been ten and a half years since my mother passed and I was surprised it made me so emotional to say goodbye again. I didn't expect after all this time, that the tears would roll down my cheeks like a flood. Anyway, as I was scattering her ashes in mid-thigh high water, boo-hooing like a baby, a big wave came along and smacked me in the butt, soaking me with salt water, seaweed and ashes. I had to laugh. Mother got the last word.
I drove all the way back home, about 300 miles, in salty, damp shorts with a touch of Mother. It was a comfort and it makes me smile.
You always miss your mother.
