There was a soft knock on the door this morning. Kate went to the door and I heard her talking. Then she called out, “Mom, Daddy’s home!”
The ashes and death certificates were delivered by our regular carrier today. Of course, John never did anything the easy way, and the box had gotten bumped and had sprung a "leak" somewhere in transit. The packaging was torn and had been wrapped in plastic - and there was a small amount of ash over everything inside of that. The poor letter carrier was devastated that she had to bring the package for delivery. Kate heard this explanation before she called me. The carrier was all but in tears, and Kate and I were joking about John’s having continued his travels and taken the scenic route home. Oh, dear - we’re so irreverent. But I think we did make the carrier feel better.
So now the ashes are here, and eventually, we’ll decide how we want to honor him.
But now I have the documents, and I can get started on paperwork. I've talked to the lawyer, and a court date is to be set up for sometime next week. I'll get originals and copies sent to various locations as soon as possible, and we can get things going.
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1 comment:
One thing I've learned about death, especially the very traumatic ones, is it is true you may never cry as much...but often you laugh a lot too...and only those who have experienced thar understand this is not disrespectful in the least. I love the idea of John taking the scenic route home. Hugs.
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