Mom Was Here

Mom Was Here
Those of you who have read ‘You Really Don’t Want To Open That’ will understand this tidbit of nonsense while those of you who haven’t it may just pass right over your head.  If you want to correct that here is the link that will take you directly to the story without you having to search for it.  http://www.cathypacematthews.com/a-whole-lot-of-talking/you-really-dont-want-to-open-that
Now that I have given you an easy way to find it I hope you will check it out.
You might be asking why I am bringing it up yet again.  The truth is I’ve been asked several times if the part about me carrying my mom’s ashes, I prefer to simply say my mom is in my purse, so I wanted to clear that question up, is true.  Yes I do carry my mom in my purse.  She goes where ever I go.  Right after she passed away my husband took me to Boston, actually it was a little town about thirty minutes from Boston, just to get me away from home for a week and hopefully help me heal from the loss of my mom.  What Buddy didn’t know was that we were in a place Mom had always wanted to visit but she never got that chance.  In its own way it probably made things a little worse for a short time.  What did help was I realized that my mom was with me on that trip.  She was in that beautiful little cabin with a fireplace with us.  That realization did help me and now I am tickled every time I go somewhere she goes with me.  Yes having your dead relatives right there can make you uncomfortable but she had the decorum not to be seen or heard so we were fine.
My mom has stood on the top of the Rocky Mountains, has sat with me on several different beaches, has walked with me in awe at the beauty of a new place, and been captivated by the kindness of people from all these different place.  Yes it’s sad that I wasn’t able to share these places with her when she was alive but as trivial as this may sound I’m taking her now.
My mom may have been dwindled down to a few grey ashes in a bottle but she is still with me and her presence is often a comfort to me.  Now if I find anything sad in this is because she isn’t seen, heard, not touched during these trips so I’ve decided I’m going to correct that.  I’m going to start carrying an eight by ten image of her and someplace along the trip I’m going to attach it to a utility pole or something along those lines.  On that image will be written her name, the dates of both her birth and death, and the date the poster was put up.  You got it.  People will come along and hopefully read it and see the dates and will either find it funny or it may scare the crap out of them.  If Buddy and I are on a long road trip in our lovely converted 1963 4106 Greyhound bus she could end up with her picture posted in a lot of little towns along the way.
The concept makes me feel a little like Buddy and I are Hansel and Gretel and we are leaving breadcrumbs along our path.
So if you ever run into one of these images stop and say hello to Mom, her name is Emma Catherine Pace.  She would like that but be warned, she is a bit of a Chatty Cathy and can talk for hours.