This morning, as I sat on our dock at high tide, I introduced Edna Mae Coons to the joy, beauty, and comfort of our home in Wilton Manors. I did so by speaking to the plastic bag in which she arrived and reading her obituary to the New River and to several beautiful places in our garden.
Before scattering her ashes, I welcomed Edna Mae to our family, and hoped that her desire to one day visit Florida would be satisfied by co-mingling with the Atlantic Ocean, and with our bougainvillea, orchids, hibiscus, jasmine, and gardenias.
Edna Mae had a tough life because she was developmentally disabled and, as a result, was bullied at school. I hoped that becoming part of our Zen garden and our world of loving kindness, would help soothe her soul, and make up for the abuse she experienced in life.
Though she and I were the same age, I’d never met Edna Mae, nor had I heard of her. But my friend, Will Coons, wrote to ask if Ray and I might accept some of his aunt’s ashes to help fulfill her dreams. “Of course,” I said, and the ashes arrived yesterday, beautifully boxed and wrapped by my friend, as only a gay man can do.
Edna Mae dropped out of school because of the bullying, and grew up on her parent’s farm, where she loved helping with chores, especially tending to the chickens. My friend Will wrote that she was impaired but not stupid. She appreciated good puns and enjoyed laughing. Her joys were birds, basketball, crafts, coloring, dancing, food, desserts, and Johnny Cash, Elvis and Adam Lambert.
I had a young sister, Pam, who was developmentally disabled, but she didn’t live past age 2. The description of Edna Mae’s life made me think about what life might have been like for Pam had she lived, and how her life might have impacted mine.
It’s my plan to keep my eye on the different plants that welcomed Edna Mae’s ashes to see if they bloom more heartily. Wouldn’t it be fun to imagine that adding the dust of a person’s life might make a difference in the life of another being? We could think of ourselves in a mulch pile waiting to help things grow healthier and more beautiful.
It’s Ray’s and my plan to be cremated, although where we want our ashes spread keeps changing. Before we got Sebastian, Ray wanted his, mine and Lincoln’s ashes combined and scattered together. I’ve imagined my remains scattered on the ocean or a lake. I’m an Aquarian who is happiest when I’m in or on the water.
Had Aunt Edna Mae’s body been placed in a coffin, it would have not just been a waste of money but also deprived me of the experience of knowing and sharing her story, and the satisfaction I got from helping our lives continue our co-mingling.
