Frozen Ground
Well, she's planted. We all got there and there was a 1' square hole covered with a piece of plywood painted green, a small pile of dirt beside it. Then the whole thing was covered over with a fake grass rug, and Mother was in a 4" square cardboard box that had a sort of flower design on top.
Daddy had a folding chair to sit on. We then all just stood there. Since she was a Quaker, there is no minister or priest, and we had a maybe a 4 or 5 minute silence. My sister said, is someone going to come ? No one knew. So we all just stood there for another long uncomfortable silence. Eric, Caroline's husband, said it was OK if anyone had anything to say . More silence. My sister said that she had brought a camellia bud for Mummy. More silence. So I decided to say some thing about hoping there are horses there and that the Lord was going to have a grand garden. More silence. Since no one came to do anything finally we went, picked up the box, pulled back the rug and picked up the plywood, and put the box in the hole, with the camellia bud. Suzanne, my daughter in law, put a small string of beads she made, I put in some dirt, and we covered up the hole with the plywood and the rug.
My father is a devote Catholic, and Quakers say the Lords Prayer, so I decided to say that. Then we all hugged and left.
I think probably if my other sister who is a Quaker had been there, she would have been able to move us. We knew my mother didn't want a churchly fuss, but we couldn't figure out what to do. Very awkward. It was cold, with some snow left from the last storm. The work vehicle that brought the rug and the shovel left its tracks in the snow, and they had removed the snow from about a 15 foot square area.
This all took place in Mount Auburn Cemetery, full of heavy Victorian funereal pieces, winding roads with names like Wisteria and Thyme. My mother is in the Pickman family plot. She didn't like her in-laws in general, so it seems a little odd that she is there.
After that, we drove back for lunch to the house in Lincoln. Very good quiche and salad and cookies, still a big awkward for me there, my former workplace and home. It was decided to put back together the antique four poster that had been dismantled while my mother needed a hospital bed.
This bed is a massive piece with a baroque turning on the foot posts, it is held together with fat carriage bolts that have a big cube for a head. The pieces are numbered, but not completely, and the bolts that hold it together are different sizes. It took a lot of well-qualified people a very long time, with three retries, to get it back together.
Next day, I climbed back up into the sky, headed for CA. While in Boston, I saw some old and dear friends, had a good visit with my daughter. I got snowed on, navigated icy sidewalks, and balked at paying $3.99 for a head of organic lettuce. Boston is still rat race city, like most cities.
It was good to get back to the trailer in the middle of nowhere.
Daddy had a folding chair to sit on. We then all just stood there. Since she was a Quaker, there is no minister or priest, and we had a maybe a 4 or 5 minute silence. My sister said, is someone going to come ? No one knew. So we all just stood there for another long uncomfortable silence. Eric, Caroline's husband, said it was OK if anyone had anything to say . More silence. My sister said that she had brought a camellia bud for Mummy. More silence. So I decided to say some thing about hoping there are horses there and that the Lord was going to have a grand garden. More silence. Since no one came to do anything finally we went, picked up the box, pulled back the rug and picked up the plywood, and put the box in the hole, with the camellia bud. Suzanne, my daughter in law, put a small string of beads she made, I put in some dirt, and we covered up the hole with the plywood and the rug.
My father is a devote Catholic, and Quakers say the Lords Prayer, so I decided to say that. Then we all hugged and left.
I think probably if my other sister who is a Quaker had been there, she would have been able to move us. We knew my mother didn't want a churchly fuss, but we couldn't figure out what to do. Very awkward. It was cold, with some snow left from the last storm. The work vehicle that brought the rug and the shovel left its tracks in the snow, and they had removed the snow from about a 15 foot square area.
This all took place in Mount Auburn Cemetery, full of heavy Victorian funereal pieces, winding roads with names like Wisteria and Thyme. My mother is in the Pickman family plot. She didn't like her in-laws in general, so it seems a little odd that she is there.
After that, we drove back for lunch to the house in Lincoln. Very good quiche and salad and cookies, still a big awkward for me there, my former workplace and home. It was decided to put back together the antique four poster that had been dismantled while my mother needed a hospital bed.
This bed is a massive piece with a baroque turning on the foot posts, it is held together with fat carriage bolts that have a big cube for a head. The pieces are numbered, but not completely, and the bolts that hold it together are different sizes. It took a lot of well-qualified people a very long time, with three retries, to get it back together.
Next day, I climbed back up into the sky, headed for CA. While in Boston, I saw some old and dear friends, had a good visit with my daughter. I got snowed on, navigated icy sidewalks, and balked at paying $3.99 for a head of organic lettuce. Boston is still rat race city, like most cities.
It was good to get back to the trailer in the middle of nowhere.
posted by Thistledown24 at 5:56 PM
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