I've done the last thing I will ever officially need to do for my mother. Yesterday, on a quiet, calm, sunny Sunday morning, I scattered her ashes at the beach location she had specified.
The tide was low, so I walked quite far out on the firm, grey sand to reach the pebbly tidal pools where I could release her ashes onto some rippling waters.
I mentally said "The Lord's Prayer" as I carefully shook her ashen remains back into nature. I lingered momentarily over the "forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us" part. I haven't forgiven her trespasses, and don't think I ever completely will. I certainly won't ever forget them.
What was most comforting about this final act was the full realization there can be no new trespasses. And I can deal with the memories of by-gone trespasses.
My mother wasn't the only one spiritually "released" on that beach yesterday.
Todo bien. (It's all good.)
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