The view through the arbor that leads to the beach at Camp Goodtimes West.
David's, Gregg's and my hands, holding the biodegradable box filled with Katie's ashes, and the flowers we brought to send with them. The box is made to take on water, sink, and break down, naturally scattering the ashes.
The box and flowers in Gregg's hand.
Letting some of Katie's ashes go into the water of Puget Sound.
As I was letting the ashes fall through my fingers, I kept thinking of the words to the song from "Mamma Mia" that made Maribeth, Alan & me cry, when we saw it together in Seattle, years ago: "Slipping Through My Fingers." "The feeling that I'm losing her forever...Slipping through my fingers all the time." And I recalled Anne Lamott's words about scattering her best friend's ashes, and her mother's. She talked about how they were gritty, and not like fireplace ashes; they had bits of bone in them. I'm so thankful that I had read that, before we touched Katie's ashes, because it is true. They are different; they are human remains.
It occurred to me to create a very powerful message for Congress, using these photos and some others I have, and ask them: Do you really think that pediatric cancer research isn't important to fund? These are my 12-year old daughter's remains, all that remains of her precious body, the one I carried and delivered, into this world.
Do you think they would pay attention to that?
Thanks to Ann Marie Ogle & Paul Dudley for the beautiful photographs.