A Smiling Young Widow

That was the question asked as my bag rolled into the extra screening at airport security when traveling over Christmas. Hmm what powder do I have in my bag? Oh right… that’s my husband. It’s my husband’s ashes.

I’d brought along a bag with some of Tom’s ashes to spread, not wanting to put them in my checked bag in case it got lost. I had been in such a tizzy packing – first Christmas to get through without Tom – I hadn’t even thought about the logistics of traveling with ashes.

I was thinking frick I didn’t even bring any paperwork (for awhile I was always carrying around a death certificate), and oh greaaat some of Tom is going to be left in an airport garbage can … widow fail! The security staff were really kind about it, but it was one of those moments where I was just trying to hold it together. To act normal, like I was just another holiday traveler passing through. Then a little question threw me for a loop. 

(In case anyone is curious, it was no problem to take the ashes through security with me – but they go through on a special tray on their own & then get swabbed. So if you’re flying with ashes probably best to be prepared for this. If I do it again I’d take them out and tell the person at the start of the line, be ready for that conversation. I find with so much of this post-death stuff that the unexpected conversations or emotions are the toughest.) 

So ashes. There’s a lot to learn. I imagined spreading them to be like what we see in the movies, this beautiful experience of small bits of ash blowing away in the wind or floating down the river picturesquely. But. This is like a case of Instagram vs reality. The wind rarely actually blows just one direction and it’s not consistent. Ashes clump up when they hit water. I’ve now heard stories of others running into similar surprises. Like a family gathered to send beautiful stamped art made of grandpa’s ashes floating down the river he loved. Well it just sunk right there.

This is another thing we don’t really talk about in casual conversation. And somewhere humor has to exist. The first time I spread Tom’s ashes was in the Yukon. I was going on a road trip with my sister that Tom and I were supposed to take. We were going to meet up with my brother and sister-in-law to do a backpacking trip Tom and I had booked to do. Made sense to take some ashes with me to spread. As I got ready, I wondered how I was supposed to transport the ashes? Like no offense to Tom, but there was no way I was hauling the entire beautiful wooden urn. Like I was already worried how I’d make it up this trail with the tent he usually carried for us!

I asked my (new at the time) widow bestie what she had done when taking ashes out on hikes to spread. She told me ok this might sound a little bit weird but I put them in a Ziploc bag, like we’d always had for our sandwiches on hikes. And I was like ok perfect that’s exactly what I was thinking to do too! She wrote a little note on her Ziploc, and I drew a heart on mine. Then I slipped it into one of Tom’s little hiking pouches – probably more so in case it busted, I didn’t need ashes all over my bag.

So when I went to spread the ashes, I still thought it would be like the movies. I was at the most beautiful spot where this mountain lake turns into a little river. I waded in a bit, reached in for a palmful of ashes and let them go… to drop right down and coat the rocks at my feet. I changed my technique to do little bits at a time, and to let them go higher up so they’d spread out before hitting the water. I also spent some time rattling the rocks to try and get the ashes moving on, laughing out loud as I knew Tom would also find this ridiculous.

Or another time I was on a mountaintop when I let ashes fly (smaller amounts at a time, I’d learnt my lesson). As the ashes blew back at my face, I slipped on my sunglasses & pursed my lips. Now a part of me – it’s the weird widow life – is happy to have Tom’s body that I loved so much blow right back into me, but I also don’t need to be choking on bits of ash on a mountain top. I passed that wisdom on at the next spot when I was with family – no talking! Sunglasses on, or close those eyes quick!

These are moments where it seems solemnity is appropriate… then it’s just hits ya, that’s not always the way! I imagine what Tom would think of any of this hullabaloo and fuss made about him. Everyone trying to be serious. He probably would have thought it hilarious if some of his ashes were left in an airport garbage can.

It has been a big decision to decide what to do with the ashes. I know Tom wouldn’t care where I chose to spread them, though I kinda wish I’d had a guide. We had talked about how we both wanted to be cremated, but nothing about what to do after that. We’d talked about how expensive it all becomes and Tom had said something about how it should be as cheap as possible for him, he could just go in a Kleenex box.

So there we were at the funeral home going through plans, and yes it is in fact ridiculous the costs for every little piece of the cremation and a funeral. It was the principle more than the actual expense. Tom’s brother asked if they could explain the charges to us, we had just always heard about how expensive it was to die and were curious about all this. Everyone we worked with at the funeral home was so lovely, and she did go through the list and what each category covered. We were at the part about what container Tom’s body would be cremated in… I can’t remember the exact cost, but it was certainly a heck of a lot more than the cost of a Kleenex box. We asked if there was anything simpler, as per Tom’s one wish. The coordinator went to talk with someone else (it felt a bit like buying a car) and came back with an offer for us to do just a basic pine tray that is “usually reserved for a certain group”. We agreed to that. After we left, my sister was like hmm I think we may have just got for Tom what they usually only offer to low-income families. Excellent negotiation skills to laugh about now.

Really the point of this post is to bring some humour into the weirdness that comes after death. I hadn’t heard anyone else’s funny ash spreading stories until I had my own. I hadn’t thought how you’d package up a bit of your husband’s ashes into a Ziploc bag (I did at least get the brand name, needed the best quality seal!) You think this whole thing has to be so stoic and respectful, until you actually have to go through it!