It's TIME and I know it

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING POST IS DEEP AND I do apologize for this heavy subject matter that I try to steer away from on this blog.  I realize most of you do not like to read such heavy-duty sharing and like to keep things light.  SO PLEASE -  just pass this post by. It won’t hurt my feelings. For the rest of you, thanks for being here. 

In yesterday's hodgepodge, I mentioned an item on my "to-do" list that has been burdening me for a very long time. After thinking about it, I thought it best, that it was time to be transparent rather than mysterious.

Michael and I at his graduation from Cal State Long Beach.

Yes, your eyes are not deceiving you. Michael was born with a rare bone dysplasia that resulted in severe dwarfism. 

My oldest son, Michael passed away on May 8, 2003, at the age of 25 - totally unexpected. As the LA Coronor documented, it was a "cardiac event." I had him cremated and at the time - a Coast Guard friend of ours owned a boat and offered to take us all out to sprinkle his ashes, at McCovey Cove in the San Francisco Bay. I was all for it...

but then I found myself where I just was not ready to part with this box of cremains. 

One year turned into 10 years, and so on and so forth. Every anniversary or birthday I thought about this. My procrastination got the better of me and led me to the point where my own son's ashes were getting to be a burden to me simply because I was having a problem letting go - and as I am getting older, I knew I had to make plans one way or another and I did not want to shirk this duty onto my 2 remaining sons after I pass away. 

So the time is here  - it will be in 20 years. During  the years,  I would say, that I am waiting for the “20-year anniversary.”

Really, I was just putting it off. My family knew it and I knew they knew it. They were gracious and did not hound me. It was starting to be an issue for my sons because they wanted their brother, Michael to have a final place. 

A God job? 

Yesterday I was talking with a woman whose husband owns a small air service of helicopters and small planes here in town. She, without knowing or being aware of my dilemma mentioned that they scatter ashes as well. This came out of nowhere since we were not even talking about Michael or me needing to do this. - we were totally on a different subject matter. 

I felt my cheeks get hot - I felt the heavy thug, thug thug of my pounding heart in my chest. 

I told her my situation and she told me to call her husband and talk to him. 

I hesitated to share this yesterday - because I have failed at following through on this for almost 20 years and I didn't want to mention it and fail once again. 

Needless to say, after I came home - I told my husband - 

I started getting those 2nd thoughts. This has to STOP!

I have to go through with this. I want to. I'm the type of person who for too many years in my past, I allowed myself to be led through feelings and not facts. My therapist one time had me put down on paper, FEELINGS and FACTS and list the pros and cons of each when I was presented with something I needed to make a decision on. 

To this day I still try and use this tool when tasked with a hard decision. 

The glaring FACT is, my Michael was a beautiful person who lived on this earth. He needs a proper final resting place once and for all. I don't care for the idea of splitting his ashes up - or turning them into jewelry or vases which is popular now. To each his own and for me, that doesn't feel right to me plus I know my son and I know he would not have liked that. He would have told me, “That’s gross, Mom!”

Foodie took this photo - of their many backpacking trips to the Trinity Alps. It is their favorite place to hike. 

So we'll go with the scattering of his earthly cremains over the Trinity Alps - the helicopter will hold 4 family members; myself, my husband, and my 2 remaining sons. It seems so right - my sons love to spend time backpacking the Trinity Alps and it is one of my favorite places as well. 

It will be a relief - for me as I really do feel I held on too long. I suffered through what was clinically called "complicated grief." for about 8 years after. I cried so much that to this day, I hate to cry. I protect myself from sad sentimental movies, and books - for me, I can't understand wanting to watch a "tear-jerker." WHY? I spent 8 years in my own tear-jerker and it wasn't fun. 

I will call the air service this afternoon - 

And yes, my heart is pounding in my chest again…I feel like barfing. (slang for throwing up) 

Everything in my body is telling me to just run and hide - pull the covers over my eyes and forget about it. 

But it's time and I know it.