There are some things so private and beautiful it take time to find the right way to tell the story. So exquisite that words couldn’t possible explain the impact on one’s heart. So healing that life has not choice but to turn and go on. I’ll tell you such a story now. I’ll only tell it once on this screen.
In the last two years, the most difficult decision of all remained to be made. It was mine to make and I didn’t want to get this one wrong. VST’s cremains had been sitting on the bookcase shelf for 25 months. Where would I release the last physical connection that said it all really happened? The first dance on a hot night. The romance. Our vows. The kids. The ranch. Our private mountain top at the gateway to Yosemite. 50,000 miles of laughter in the RV. Sailing. Virginia City. All of it.
To make such a decision took me two years, one month,and 12 days. Should he watch over the vines of the ranch, the beach at Bass Lake, or our beloved Pacific Ocean? Or should he remain in Virginia City, the place he loved as much as the others? I asked T and K. I questioned CC. Of course, no one could make that decision but me. I wrestled with this more than anyone knew, all the time being comforted for the beautiful blue urn that held nothing more than ashes. VST left us on April 8th. This would be the final formality.
The presence of the urn gave me strength on days that I really didn’t know if I could go on. I could talk to VST. Just outside my bedroom, he stood sentry allowing me to sleep soundly. All irrational and delusional thoughts of a widowed wife of 32 years. Someone grieving so deeply for her life’s true love. You’ll just need to trust me on that, those of you that didn’t know us. For those of you that did, you knew that before I wrote those words.
I’d just enjoyed the first meeting with new friends at Bible study and I was walking on clouds. In the morning, I had prayed so deeply for new friends. God granted me 20 of the best friends in town that morning, even defining the word friend on the hand out for that day. That day afternoon , a storm blew in. No rain or lightning, just wind. Ferocious wind.
Late that day, the urn caught my eye, and for the first time I KNEW where I was going and what I was to do. There was no second guessing, because the end of the final chapter flashed before my eyes. VST and I needed to go on one last ride together and I knew just the place we would go.
Wind. Quite possible my favorite force of nature. VST loved the Zephyr Winds of Virginia City, but I probably loved them more. So powerful and cleansing. One of God’s most powerful forces. Especially here on the desert. Wind carries us through life. It cools us on the hottest days. It’s a life force that awakens our senses. It’s wild and free just like the times VST and I enjoyed being feral parents. It’s force is awe-inspiring. It has a fierce voice as it roars along. It can also be a soft caress on the loneliest of days.
With deliberate steps, I got dressed and lovingly lifted VST’s urn off the shelf. A perfect outline would remain where his urn sat for so many months. The weight still shocked me. Dense. Compact. Heavy as a brick. Hard to believe that the 6’1″ man of flesh and bone could be reduced to twelve pounds of ash. Another reminder that, indeed, the time had come. It was right. It was now.
The late afternoon was the kind of desert day I write about all the time. Puffy white clouds racing across the biggest cobalt-blue sky. Strapping VST into the seat belt, I remember the last times we drove together, he only a week from death. Even on our last drive, he taught me about engaging the 4WD as we drove down the treacherous and unforgiving Geigher Grade towards medical news that would shatter our hearts. Today, there would be no driving instructions.
Behind Winterpast, wonderful gravel roads lead up the mountains toward God. The sweeping views look out towards Winterpast and hundreds of miles of high desert. Sentinels watching over us, these brown, barren mountains take the brunt of the wind. It would be to that force, to which I would release my sweet husband to go on his way.
Standing on the mountain top, I felt God’s grace, mercy, and love surround me as I held the urn tightly one last time. Not VST. Not VST. Not VST. In my mind, I kept repeating those words until my heart calmed and I caught my breath. Blowing sand was stinging my skin. My hair whipped. The intensity of the moment was just the perfect place for such a GoodBye. A physical manifestation of how cancer had ripped VST when nothing else ever would have.
The winds had slammed the door of the Jeep causing me to jump. Now, I was one lone woman saying Goodbye. It was the end of our physical connection on earth.
Releasing his ashes to the wind was the most beautiful experience I could’ve experienced with him. I released him to a force of nature, not to one particular place. Racing off towards adventure he left me. Traveling East to all the places that were our favorites. I’m sure part of him will linger, overlooking Winterpast and his one true love. The one with the bluest eyes that stole his heart on that beautiful September night so many moons ago.
I sobbed for a very long time crumbled in the dusty Zephyr winds of the desert I love so much. Comforting me, the wind covered me in bits of ash leading me back home to the loving walls of Winterpast. It was done.
VST had been released to a force of nature. What better words to describe a man among men? A true force of nature throughout his life, VST bulldozed through all of his life’s ups and downs. He lived life on his terms, even when the game changed. He chose happiness every day, and always found a way to share that with others. He aimed his arrow and hit the bulls-eye time and time again. A regular guy leaving brilliant memories when he left for heaven.
I can’t properly explain in words the amazing healing that occurred on that windy afternoon. Intense beauty cocooned our private Goodbye. The last time he would ever cradle me with his love and devotion. A beautiful healing occurred on that lonely mountain top. In that moment, God sang a lullaby to my grieving heart while he guided VST on his way.
Free.
We are both free.
Happy Birthday, VST. I’ll have an ice cream for you today. I’m sure you’re having one, too. Peanut Butter Chocolate. It wouldn’t be heaven without ice cream, right??
Love you more,
Mrs. H