Honoring those we have loved and lost

As I walked through the forest in the late afternoon, the fog was dense and laid a heavy blanket of humidity. Although the mist was cool, it felt heavy in my lungs. The weight of my bag had not gotten lighter even though I left some ashes from my dog and my father back at the waterfall. 

Over 20 years I have carried the ashes of my dog, Ivy with me from home to home, across the country. I carried some ashes from my father too. They were dear ones in my life, having such a deep and profound impact on my life. And when they die, how do I honor them? 

Finding waterfalls, gentle streams and pools of water is a passion of mine. Whenever I go on a hike, I take the ashes of my dog and dad with me. If I find a beautiful spot that touches me and brings me peace, I think about how great it would be to leave some of the ashes of my beloved there. I know they wanted me to press on without them. They taught me lessons to love, give, care, forgive, and have the strength to find my happiness, to take the journey of a thousand miles by taking one step forward, time after time. They wanted me, to attain peace in my heart and soul, to have the highest vibration, and share my gifts of compassion. To touch others and follow in their footsteps.

When I find a calm pool of water, I think of Ivy's personality. She was like a wilting flower. When she met me at the door, her ears peeled back like petals on a flower that was dying. It was her surrender to me, her complete trust. When I throw ashes into the water, I watch them fall to the bottom. It looks like glitter falling from the sky, but it floats down to the bottom of the stream where the ashes quietly lay as if in sleep. Completely relaxed. The ashes can rest there and enjoy the reflection and quietness under the surface of the water until the water becomes swift after a rainy day and sweeps them away. I watch the lighter ashes float downstream, like a cloudy apparition. The spirit of Ivy drifts away in the soft current, in lightness.

This pool is only a few feet from the top of the waterfall. I move to where the top of the fall is and I put a handful of my father and Ivy in the water. I watch the light ashes float over the top of the falls and I smile. "See you at the bottom," I say out loud. I think to myself, "They are going to have the ride of their life."

This is how I let go of those I have loved. Honor their spirit. I ask myself, what would they have wanted for me? What did I learn? I put a piece of them in places they might have enjoyed. I had the courage to venture out to find the wonders that delight my spirit. I share that experience with them. After all, I have carried my dog and father for 20 years, isn't it time I put them down in beautiful places and let them become part of the landscape. They have shaped me, and I return them back to Mother Earth to have a rebirth.

When it's my time, I hope someone will put me on the top of the waterfall and meet me at the bottom. I will show them the way to take the first step on their thousand-mile journey.

Look closely beneath the reflection. The glittery golden ashes are my part of Ivy. I placed her there to wait in peace until the water is swift one day and will carry her over the waterfall. It will be the ride of her life! 

Scout looks over the still water where I placed part of Ivy. As I threw her ashes into the water, Scout took a big sniff of her ashes and sneezed! Ivy would have enjoyed a friendly sniff and I know she is happy that I give Scout the same care and love I gave to her.

Scout crosses at the top of the falls.

My dad and Ivy took the ride of their lives. I sprinkled handfuls of their ashes on the of the falls to the right. I wanted them to take the gentler ride down. I met them at the bottom a few minutes later.

Scout is curious when he sees visitors on the trail.

If you would like to share your loss and how you have honored them, please feel free to put it in the comment box below.