Dust in the Wind

R.B. Winters
R.B. Winters
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Mom and MeAs my mother’s birthday drew closer anxiety set in. I wasn’t sure how I’d react to be honest. Things have been as normal as ever, in a sense it’s almost like nothing ever happened.

When the day finally arrived I woke in an obnoxiously good mood. So good, if I were a stranger on the street I’d feel inclined to punch someone this happy in the face. Rather than fight this unusual happiness it was easier and more desirable to let it happen.

The plan was to meet a few friends and head down to the Brooklyn Bridge after everyone finished work. When my mom originally passed away I did as she asked and poured a majority of her ashes over her father’s grave in Monroe, Utah. That was what she wanted, and today was about what I wanted. Spreading the ashes at the base of the BK bridge would make it possible for her to always be nearby, in a place she loved and in the perfect spot for an eternal view of the Manhattan skyline.

I’ve had the remaining ashes with me the past seven weeks, keeping them in a safe place that could not be accidentally disturbed by prying cat paws. Just before six in the evening my friends and I gathered at the Brooklyn Bridge Park / Empire Fulton Ferry. Unable to find a flask and not wanting to carry eight beers around and potentially get busted for open containers, I brought Bud Light Straw-brrr-ittas. These little cans are tasty, strong and just the right size to drink quickly.

Around a newly planted tree I spread the ashes, pouring a drink over them [she would absolutely want to be included in the toast]. Saying a few words in my head, we toasted, drank and that was the end. The end of the sad portion that is to say. It was important to properly celebrate so we made our way to my mom’s favorite of city bars, The Fat Black Pussycat.

In her honor, we had a good time, me taking it a bit too far by staying out all night, enjoying thirty minutes of sleep and then rolling into my next hungover work day. But I can for sure say that my mom was provided a proper goodbye and would have been proud of the ridiculous drunken antics on her behalf.

As she said on behalf of all and any of her friends that passed away. “God’s speed my friend.”