A year ago today a good friend died. An accident. We were interstate. No chance to say goodbye. On the other hand no memories other than of him full of life.
On this overcast day I walk through a local cemetery and see the reminders of many who have died. I remember that my friend wanted no funeral, no stone memorial. He wanted his ashes tipped into the sea, off the beach he overlooked each day.
I love cemeteries with their tangible reminders of lives past. They remind me of the uncertainty and fragility of life. And the certainty of death. But nothing is permanent. Flowers wilt, plastic ones fade, stone memorials decay and even a grave plot has a limited life.
As much as I love cemeteries I’m happy to remember my friend not via a piece of carved stone but in the colourful kites soaring above his beach, full of life and joy, reaching for the sun.