Sic transit…


I don’t have an extensive update to post, but it’s been so long since my last entry that I wanted to write something to show I’m still alive.

So here I am. What’s new? Well, a couple of weekends ago I went to Meriden, NH to meet up with some high school friends I hadn’t seen in a while. For various reasons, I wasn’t as social as I wanted to be, but it was good to see everyone, and I’m glad I went. Photo documentation is here.

This coming weekend, I and my siblings’ families will be going to my mom’s house to scatter my dad’s ashes under the bur oak tree he planted nearly 30 years ago. I’m not sure how I feel about it. I’d like it to be a meaningful gesture, but at the same time I share my mom’s discomfort with ritual for ritual’s sake. It can so often seem conventional, cheap and/or awkward. My dad asked my mom to make sure his ashes were put in this spot; he didn’t ask for speeches or a moment of silence or anything else as far as I know. Knowing him, he wouldn’t have minded some attention, though.

Maybe I should plant something he would have liked. My dad really loved his garden when he could still tend it. Afterward, he tried to tend it by proxy. A Rosa rugosa would be an obvious choice. He nurtured a whole row of them for years before the Ryegate road crew decided to “trim” them into nonexistence. Or maybe it should be another flower, something new. Something hardy. I’ll think about it.

One last thing. My brother Hugh and my friend Thad are both officially a year older today. In the language of my Irish ancestors, I say: Sláinte! May the next year treat you well.

About the author

Janice Dawley

Outdoorsy TV addict, artistic computer geek, loner who loves people.

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By Janice Dawley


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