My brother was cremated. The remains were placed in plastic, in a box, in a velvet bag and have been in mom's closet. The funeral home recently gave my mom a beautiful carved wooden box instead of the cardboard one. So today mom put the wooden box in the velvet bag and placed it in a small red handheld carry on bag. Along with it was his memory book, his death certificate, cremations certificate etc. That carry on was definitely Larry's bag. And off we went to the airport.
It is funny the thoughts that would go through my mind and sometimes the words that would come out of my mouth. Mom and I shared responsibility for carrying the bag. At one point I put the red bag at Peter's feet and said with motherly emphasis "watch that bag! Don't let it out of your sight." He who had spent most of the journey thus far with earphones in his ears said, "whats in the bag?" Without hesitation I said "your Uncle Larry." More than once someone said "who has Larry?"
We had researched carrying ashes on the airplane and spoke with the funeral home. The funeral home assured us there was nothing to worry about. When we were passing through security and the TSA guy said he needed to look in the Red Bag, over protective sisterly concern went into overdrive. He pulled us asided and when he opened it Larry's memory book appeared on top. Mom is such a smart packer. I told him, that bag has my brother's remains. With that big "don't mess with my brother" look in my eyes and probably my mother's sweet face, he didn't have a chance. Quickly the bag was released and we were on our way with "Larry". I must say there was relief because getting him through security had been one of my concerns.
After the security check, I was carrying the red bag much like one cradles a favored stuffed animal or a small dog. The contents were heavy and we were being careful that the strain of the heavy load did not rip off the handles. Mom told me to let her know if it got heavy. The first thing that popped into my head (and soon out of my mouth) were the lyrics "He's not heavy, he's my brother." I don't know the name of that song or who sings it but it will never be the same.
The thing that kept floating through my head was how this was Larry's easiest trip to Kansas. Traveling was tiring and challenging for Larry in many ways. But not today.
I know some of these tales can sound crude but the fact is Larry is not in the red bag. The remains of his physical body are there. however the real Larry is with Jesus. He is not here. But burying Larry's remains is part of the process. It is part of saying goodbye. And somehow I can't help but think that the humor that comes from carrying his remains in a red bag helps with the pain and sorrow that we feel.
No comments:
Post a Comment