Handful of Dust

    (originally drafted 1/17/12)


 I remember this day, 17 years ago, very clearly - so clearly as if it were a running film feed playing automatically on the television displayed in the patient waiting room of the local hospital. Alas, it isn't merely some video; rather, it is real. The reality is that 17 years ago today, momma went from a radiant, vibrant, intelligent, vessel of abundant goodness to a mere handful of dust.

 Her friends and coworkers, even some individuals with whom I've been in contact years later who have heard the story, have inquired as to why momma chose to be cremated rather than buried. Well, my first response has always been: Because that's what she requested! This is then usually followed up with another question: "Why didn't she have a funeral or an obituary?" Again, because mom specifically asked that no fuss be made when she passed away; it's what she requested.

And so I honor[ed] it.

 In the years since then, I have done (and continue to do) what's within my capability to pay tribute to mom life, and focus more on the fact she lived. After all, that's what she would have wanted. She was such a simple, humble soul, that having any sort of pomp and circumstance dwelling on her passing would not be her "style", so to speak. I have had moments when the thought of having a gravestone close by to visit may be nice, so I can visit and contemplate and try to "channel" her energy, so to speak, with regard to particularly arduous situations/experiences.

And that's when I realize being close to momma is not necessarily about proximity (though, it would certainly be wonderful to have that), nor do I need a grave marker to visit to feel closer to her...

What I love about the Gospel (and what attracted me to investigate in the first place) is the concept of Eternal Life. Many religions purport the concept - or at least part of the concept - that death is merely a stage along the way, and that our souls continue to exist beyond the grave. Yet, the Gospel tenets teach that our soul and body are not mutually exclusive. We, beyond the veil, shall have our soul (spirit) be one with our body again in the eternities. And, it won't simply be a body, but a perfected body.

So, while momma's cancer-ravaged body has since been reduced to a velvety gray handful of dust that slipped through my fingers, onto and around the smallest pine tree growing up through the snow-capped mountains of Green Valley Falls, on January 17, 1995.... her unceasingly influential and inspiring spirit will have a healthy, perfect body again on that Triumphant Day.

And knowing this makes me vastly more appreciative for a body that is now, unlike last January, is healthier. And that my spirit is a bit better than it was last January, too. And that, for the most part, the two are working together as a team. Which is a blessing.

Alas, I digress.

Back to the "handful of dust" reference.

So, yes, mom was cremated and I spread her ashes around fledgling pine tree 17 years ago today. I still remember this so clearly. My father, of all people, had come from Hawaii upon my request, and drove my mom's gray Pontiac GrandAm up the windy-twisty mountains to Green Valley Falls. I had wondered why mom requested to have her ashes spread there, but as soon as we arrived it was clear. It looked like a snapshot from her childhood home in Pulaski. There were evergreens and snow everywhere. I walked a few yards and found a tiny, baby pine tree in the midst of towering, majestic pines, and thought: Here, here it is. I can circle this tree with your ashes, and your ashes will help it grow, and then you can grow all over again with this tree - always 'green', always living, and always giving me the air that I breathe [trees give us oxygen, ya know]... Even in death, you'll be living.

So, when my graveyard shift ended at 9:13 a.m. this morning (ironically, the time I was born), I remembered that there's a tree I planted back in April 2003 (April is mom's birth month) in a neighboring park as part of a local cancer awareness endeavor. I walked the mile from my place of work to this park to find that, indeed, my tree was still there - so much taller than it was when it was originally planted as a fledgling nearly nine years prior. And it still has the original accompanied plaque that bears mommy's (and others') name. The tree was - and is - strong, sturdy, and still standing...

I stood there at the base of this tree, and smiled. Then, realizing the bus home would be coming shortly, I blew a kiss and said softly: "I love you, mom. I miss you."

The bus came within seconds, literally, and I thought how interesting; how fortuitous of my teenage self to say back then: "even in death, you'll be living" (especially not having the Gospel in my life then) because it is so true. To this day, 17 years after her passing, mom lives. Within me. 

And because of that, mom will never be a mere handful of dust...A Handful Of Dust (Album Version)

I so deeply wish that those dearest to me could have known mom, but that's an opportunity the next life will bring, I hope... Until then, I like to think mom helps bless not only my life, but theirs as well. After all, that would be so in sync with what she did so often when she was alive on Earth.

the way the sunlight is shining through the trees, in this picture I took two years ago, seems fitting for this post

Water. The perfect anecdote

   Growing up in San Diego, then living in Hawaii and Japan; it only makes sense that I was fan of the water. My mother would joke that part of the reason I was obsessed with The Little Mermaid was, in due part, because I, too, was a mermaid. "You'd live in the water if you could," she said. In fact, when we moved to San Diego, during my Kindergarten year, the reason we moved into the apartment we did was: 1) it was close to all the schools and 2) it had a pool. (thank you, mom!) There was scarcely a day that went by when I did not plead with my mom to let me go swimming. My 14th birthday was akin to a right of passage; I had finally earned the privilege of jumping into that pool without a chaperone. (yesss!) And jump into that pool and do laps is just what I did - nearly every day. All that lapping paid off as I tried out for the high school swim team in ninth grade. Oh, the water. Oh, lest I forget the fact we were in close proximity to several beaches. Mom even worked at place located right on the shore of a beach. Perfect for a water fiend. Even when I had swam so far out into the ocean once - beyond the markers- and received a reprimand in the form of a stingray's lashing, my love for water continued.

 [Sometimes, I wonder why my residence for the past 12 years has been in a state without any ocean...]

Water.

  I even enjoy watching how water flows; from the faucet to watching rivers and water falls to seeing how the slightest movement in the wind can create shapes in ponds and puddles. Water is such a fascinating, powerful yet soothing element. It can go from a solid to a gas to a liquid (which is scientifically fascinating), but it also sustains all life here on Earth in myriad ways.

  And you combine water with the sun (which I also very much love!!!!), rainbows appear!

 Water.


[Enter story here...]

 Well, early this past Sunday morning, while working at the care center folding laundry and drinking my fifth bottled water (I'm trying to get back to my dancing days where/when all I drank was/is water - oh, and to wean myself off a tenacious Diet Coke addiction), one of the residents was watching - of all things, a Christmas movie. "In early October," I thought to myself. I was somewhat less than excited. So, I proceeded to quietly fold laundry and, eventually, found myself unwittingly engaged in this movie. At the end of the movie, the family's house is engulfed by a raging, blistering and merciless fire. The intensity of the flames, and how quickly it destroyed everything this family struggled to earn and keep blew my mind. The fire was so intense. By the time the fire department came, it was too late. All that was left was a hallowed out frayed frame and a pile of black ash that once was a home; a haven for several children. If only the firemen had come sooner with their long, durable, strong water hoses to counteract the flames; what could have been salvaged?

I finished my fifth bottle of water by the time the credits scrolled, and soon thereafter hitched a ride home.

   Now, I am back at work doing the graveyard shift like any other Sunday night/Monday morning. While folding more laundry, and opening another bottled water, suddenly a few metaphors came to mind. I contemplated these, as I proceeded with my work. Yet, the more I did the laundry and cleaned the house, the more symbolic and vivid the metaphors became. It even "forced" (or, prompted) me to stop in the middle of my chores to type this blog entry. I tried to rationalize it, thinking "I'll do it when my chores are through"; however, the concept of "doing what is right at the right time, without delay" is something that I have been  pondering cosiderably for quite some time now (especially the concept of following promptings, promptly) - and was just recently reminded of last Sunday.

 And so, I am typing now what metaphors/connections/symbols about water that have been twirling around in my head.

 First, water sustains every form of life here on Earth - from the fish to the human, making it a perfect metaphor for - and of - Heavenly Father. Granted, this analogy has likely been made long ago, so it isn't an entirely original thought. Yet, it is new to me. God, the Father of our spirits who gave Jesus Christ, our Savior and Redeemer, the power to create the Earth and all the animals and plants that flourish in it. He created the oceans, lakes, rivers, ponds, and all water forms to nurture, sustain us and give us life according to the Father's Divine Plan. He even walked on water to rescue Peter. He even caught nets of fish in the water (where no other could)  to feed the multitudes. He gave His life so that we might live again - and forever - with Him and Heavenly Father. They, together, are our LifeWater. They have the power to force change upon the face of the Earth like the towering tide waves of a typhoon, but have the calming, soothing, refreshing, and life sustaining qualities to quench our deepest thirst. Like the ocean houses a slew of wondrous, beautiful, unique creatures, so are They to us. Essential for survival. And so, it isn't any wonder why we can go only a few days without water; we need it - and the Godhead - for every life sustaining benefit it and they provide. In essence, they are essential to our lives. We cannot afford to live without them. Again, the Godhead is our LifeWater. (Perhaps, that why it feels so invigorating to shower after a long day of exertion, labor, and worry. And to sit in a cool pool after a sweaty, hot day. It is much like how it feels after receiving His help with a trial - refreshing,relieving and rejuvenating.)


   Secondly, despite the immense power that fire beholds; how quickly it can consume something and thus destroy it.  Fire is no match to water. Surely, fire can start with the slightest initiation; abruptly and arbitrarily it blazes speedy trail engulfing as much as it can to grow larger, stronger, and more powerful until all you can see is an amass of red-orange-yellow-blue flames. And a variety of elements can further instigate the fire's fury - oil, grease for example. Yet, water, a cool, clear liquid substance that seems so simple (because we use in it countless ways daily), can cause a fire to die down, and - with enough water - it can even squelch a fire entirely. This reminds me of Heavenly Father's power to dispel and conquer Satan. Lucifer, the ultimate deceiver and destroyer, with the slightest provocation can - if we let him - engulf us in flames, and those flames can burn quickly in vast directions reaping a long, wide field of mass destruction. If we do not call upon our proverbial 'LifeWater' to help us pull out the water hoses (i.e., prayer, hymns, scriptures, the Holy Ghost - the GOSPEL) to put the fire of Satan out - and do it quickly, we, our soul and spirit, can be akin to that scene on that movie - a hallowed out frame with piles of blackened ash.

  Now, I see (or, am reminded as it were) that is not enough to just  build within our hearts a sturdy, steady, safe, strong, durable home for HIM in our hearts. Our entire being must be a literal tabernacle where the Godhead resides. (hmmm...the concept of our "body is a temple" is taking on even more meaning to me). And we mustn't give Satan any reason to stir up a raging fire of destruction within us that we, suddenly, are no longer a home in which the Spirit of God can reside. Though, fortunately, because God is so good, if this does happen, we can - like that struggling family with limited means did - rebuild a stronger house (with the help of loved ones and especially) with the love of He Who First Loved Us. Water, like HIS Love, can extinguish any fireball that Satan throws or just even the overwhelming fire that "really hard, hellacious life stuff" erupts. Yet, we must partake of it. He can lead us to that water, but we must actively drink.

Water, like Him...
Is
The
Perfect
Anecdote.

Seems so simple. Drink of the waters of God and we shall live. And live well.

 Alas, it is not always as easy to remember and apply, than it is to say/write. I have found myself, for far too long (it seems) begging and pleading emphatically for Heavenly Father to pour His Love upon me, and thus thwart the fiery darts of Satan. And I realize that this well of water has already been built so as to retrieve this life sustaining, soothing, calming, refreshing, saving water. Yet, I must tie a bucket to a rope, attach it to the rod, take hold of the lever and pull up to scoop the water up from within the well in order have a cup full  to drink. He has provided the water. But, I must seek after/ for the water to fill my bucket. This  means that I cannot simply pray, pray, pray harder, prayer longer, pray more, pay longer, pray still. I have to proactively follow and do all the steps it takes to receive a fullness of His outpouring of  love and blessings - that metaphoric 'Water'.

(then, why is it that sometimes it is so hard for me to follow/do this?)

Hmm. I think I'm needing to go refill my water bottle up again right now. I'm thirsty.

Literally.

And figuratively.

Oh, yes, and resume finishing my chores before the shift is over, and it's time to go home.

(see isn't water. and symbolism. and God. Awesome?)

(!!!)---> By the way, speaking of Water - here is Handel's piece entitled "Water". I thought it was fitting to share, considering the blog topic. Enjoy! music rocks.

Handel - Water Music  download at emp3