As I rose this morning, I heard a gentle summer rain falling. I thought of Grandma and how she enjoyed a good rain or a cloudy day. I went outside and stood in the eaves of the front porch, listened to the rain music, inhaled the fragrant yesterdays, and gazed at the Zebra Grass standing sentry in the corner of the flower garden. She gave me a small start from her Zebra Grass on Mother's Day 6 years ago and now it is the highlight of my flower garden, while her purple Asters grace the other corner.
Yesterday we planted her ashes by the stone bench and the Dogwood tree on the family plot at Corinth, the cemetery outside of Corbin, KY where most of my people are laid to rest. It is serene there in the rolling meadows hugged by the Cumberland Mountains. The serenity helped me through the Memorial Service she planned for us to carry out, an intimate family gathering the day after we all celebrated the next great-granddaughter to come at my cousin's baby shower. There we delighted in the joy of the current 7 great-grandchildren. The shower was planned already and my mother and aunt decided it best this way, with family all together, to honor the cycle of our time on this Earth.
Grandma's memorial soothed us and brought us tears. "Yesterday," by the Beatles began the service, and I wasn't sure I would make it through the eulogy she had requested I prepare. "Mood Indigo," by Duke Ellington followed as I gazed up to the mountains, "from whence came my help," then rose to pay tribute to the matriarch. I stood in front of my family, eyes scrunched and watering, stumbled through the opening lines, but then found it in me to read it. We laughed and cried through the eulogy, nephew Billy's tribute and the rest of the readings. The music especially affected me, in both her careful choosing and in the feelings it evoked.
"Always," a song penned by Irving Berlin, comforted us. Our collective sorrow shuddered when Eddy Arnold began singing, "Make the World Go Away." Some nodded to memories when Elvis crooned, "Are You Lonesome Tonight?" And just before a snippet from Thoreau about resting among the pines, we were filled with longing and joy through the Cox Family's rendition of, "On the Far Side Banks of Jordan."
We embarked from Corinth down the Falls Road to the Dry Land Bridge to scatter the rest of Grandma's ashes. She requested this in a place rich with family and ancient history. In the cradle of the valley between two mountain peaks, we took turns rushing onto the road between speeding cars to send her to her resting place beneath the pines.
(Photo by Anna Cummins Smith, July 17, 2011)
We had enjoyed family picnics here, had heard the stories of how her father (my great-grandfather) took a Model T down to Cumberland Falls before the bridge, an adventurous trip that took two days. We had journeyed as a family here through the generations, first my grandmother and grandfather, back when you could still walk behind the falls and swim below them. Then my mother, aunt and uncle, to sunbathe on the rocks above the falls. Then my generation to see how high the water was, to seek out the elusive moon bow, to walk to Lover's Leap, to rent a cabin.
My grandmother was the first person in my family to request being cremated and I believe that's how I shall go. It seems best to me, to go back to the earth in a place alive with joyful memories. We travelled the road we had travelled many times with her, then stopped to rest and set her free in the heart of the foothills of the Cumberlands. We basked in the power of the moving waters of Cumberland Falls,
and enjoyed a family meal in her honor at DuPont Lodge, overlooking the gentle curve of the Cumberland River as it wound through the green hills from where we came.
I leave you with the song she requested at her service, "The Far Banks of Jordan," by the Cox Family.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZwxL9ekKtbU
(Photo by Susan Scalf, July 16, 2011)
Yesterday we planted her ashes by the stone bench and the Dogwood tree on the family plot at Corinth, the cemetery outside of Corbin, KY where most of my people are laid to rest. It is serene there in the rolling meadows hugged by the Cumberland Mountains. The serenity helped me through the Memorial Service she planned for us to carry out, an intimate family gathering the day after we all celebrated the next great-granddaughter to come at my cousin's baby shower. There we delighted in the joy of the current 7 great-grandchildren. The shower was planned already and my mother and aunt decided it best this way, with family all together, to honor the cycle of our time on this Earth.
Grandma's memorial soothed us and brought us tears. "Yesterday," by the Beatles began the service, and I wasn't sure I would make it through the eulogy she had requested I prepare. "Mood Indigo," by Duke Ellington followed as I gazed up to the mountains, "from whence came my help," then rose to pay tribute to the matriarch. I stood in front of my family, eyes scrunched and watering, stumbled through the opening lines, but then found it in me to read it. We laughed and cried through the eulogy, nephew Billy's tribute and the rest of the readings. The music especially affected me, in both her careful choosing and in the feelings it evoked.
"Always," a song penned by Irving Berlin, comforted us. Our collective sorrow shuddered when Eddy Arnold began singing, "Make the World Go Away." Some nodded to memories when Elvis crooned, "Are You Lonesome Tonight?" And just before a snippet from Thoreau about resting among the pines, we were filled with longing and joy through the Cox Family's rendition of, "On the Far Side Banks of Jordan."
We embarked from Corinth down the Falls Road to the Dry Land Bridge to scatter the rest of Grandma's ashes. She requested this in a place rich with family and ancient history. In the cradle of the valley between two mountain peaks, we took turns rushing onto the road between speeding cars to send her to her resting place beneath the pines.
We had enjoyed family picnics here, had heard the stories of how her father (my great-grandfather) took a Model T down to Cumberland Falls before the bridge, an adventurous trip that took two days. We had journeyed as a family here through the generations, first my grandmother and grandfather, back when you could still walk behind the falls and swim below them. Then my mother, aunt and uncle, to sunbathe on the rocks above the falls. Then my generation to see how high the water was, to seek out the elusive moon bow, to walk to Lover's Leap, to rent a cabin.
My grandmother was the first person in my family to request being cremated and I believe that's how I shall go. It seems best to me, to go back to the earth in a place alive with joyful memories. We travelled the road we had travelled many times with her, then stopped to rest and set her free in the heart of the foothills of the Cumberlands. We basked in the power of the moving waters of Cumberland Falls,
and enjoyed a family meal in her honor at DuPont Lodge, overlooking the gentle curve of the Cumberland River as it wound through the green hills from where we came.
I leave you with the song she requested at her service, "The Far Banks of Jordan," by the Cox Family.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZwxL9ekKtbU
(Photo by Susan Scalf, July 16, 2011)
Thank you Karen --first for the Eulogy--composed carefully..and delivered..amazingly..
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed reading "Grandma's Ashes". Billy emailed me today..saying how he missed calling Mama..difficult to get used to. I felt her presence today..I too miss calling and talking to her. Thanks again for the writing and memories.
Love this picture. Glad you could use it.
ReplyDeleteMama is back in her beloved forest.
I like this picture. Most of us had a "hand" in getting Mama back to her beloved woods.
ReplyDeleteKaren, this is the first that I have had a chance to read it. You captured it! Thank you.
ReplyDelete