@steph03
Both my husbands’ parents were non-practicing Protestants whose ashes were scattered off the end of a long walking wharf into waves of the bay. I attended of course, in respect of family grief and loss.
Visited my parents’ grave today, following Mother’s Day.
My mother and stepmother in the same grave, and disappointed he couldn’t be buried in the same plot unless cremated, my Dad was the first of our extensive family to be cremated so he could join his girls.
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We siblings and our children gathered around the grave, to bury together the beautiful urn. Each of us placed a red rose, including for the two who are no longer with us, and we read a few of the simple saintly prayers our Dad had written for his private use, that we found in his room. While Dad had chosen lines from the psalms for his wives, family agreement led to “Beloved Father and Mentor” below Dad’s name. My siblings agreed that they can never do anything wrong or immoral, because this man who was our father, so faithfully modeled integrity and goodness throughout his life.
It was strange to get the mind around to cremation as an option, considering past Catholic tradition, but this second private ceremony, with my parents own family, was a blessed and sacred event, after which all came to fill our place for a family meal and to share our stories in an intimate setting in contrast to the large public Catholic funeral.
