Burying my grandmother's ashes

This past Friday, January 30, 2016, we gathered as a small family unit to bury my maternal grandmother's ashes.  Meemo (Florence Ruth Clark DeLoach) passed in January 2014 (on January 22), but because she donated her body to Emory University, we knew that we would not get her remains back for a year or two.  We had a memorial service for her on January 31, 2014 at her church, Decatur First UMC.  Her ashes were returned sometime around Thanksgiving 2015 to my parents' home (I don't remember the exact date).  Due to the holiday time, we weren't able to find a time to get together for the burial.  When we finally got it all together, it ended up being two years to the day of her memorial service, which was on a Friday.

On one hand, I was thinking that this would allow closure.  Burial is the final act, is it not?  Yet, in my heart and mind, I knew and know that it really isn't or wasn't closure that I sought nor needed.  Nor is "closure" necessarily possible.  We don't really say good-bye to our loved ones.  We continue to see and hear signs of their presence in many ways, whether through songs, books, clouds, birds, other people, movies, old letters, smells, recipes, etc.  We know that their souls have gone on and the body (or ashes) are not them.

So, what is it about a ceremony of burial of ashes two years later that is meaningful?

For me, it allows me to begin to open up more about my grandmother's living and dying.  Though I have written some about her dying process, I have kept most of it closed up inside.  I have shared more about others dying than her.  Why?  Her death and dying was too close to me to share.  But, now, I can begin to process that more freely.  It is time.

There are things that I want to share.  There are some things I won't share.  Who knows.  We'll see.

For now, I will say that it was a blessing for me to gather with family by the graveside of a hole dug for ashes and to share words, few words, for my grandmother's burial of her ashes.  I knew she was long gone.  But I also knew that she was near.  She has been near to me my entire life.

When I watched the movie War Room, that praying woman was/is my grandmother.  I could see my Meemo in her kitchen, just like the woman in the movie.  It made me smile.  It made me cry.

Meemo, Florence Ruth Clark DeLoach, you continue to influence my life.  Thank you for your presence, your prayers, your gifts, your witness.  Your life touched mine.  I am forever blessed.

Who are those in your life who have impacted your walk, your journey?  Let them know.

Blessings on your journey,

Debra

P.S.  Though I included the link in the body of the message, I'll include it again here.  If you are interested in learning more about Emory University's donor program, click here.

My grandmother's obituary from two years ago: Obituary for Meemo.