A final passage

Earlier this morning I found out that my uncle had passed away. This was not unexpected, as he had been ill since right after Christmas with pneumonia. He was 87 years old and had been suffering from Parkinson’s disease for a few years. His wife, my aunt, had died last May from cancer. As was the case with my aunt, there will be no formal funeral or service. And my uncle’s ashes will be scattered into the Chesapeake Bay at some point, likely when the weather improves. My aunt liked to fish and both she and my uncle enjoyed being near (or on) the water. That is also where my aunt’s ashes were placed last summer. As there was no service or memorial, I made a point to remember my aunt when I walked across the Bay Bridge last fall. I told my mom that I will probably do that walk again this fall to remember my uncle. They had nothing to do with the bridge, other than that they lived near it and probably crossed it more than a few times. But being that the bay is the final resting place for their mortal remains, that passage across is a way for me to pay my final respects.

And my uncle, like my aunt before him, will make a final crossing of that metal monster once my cousin brings his ashes home. My cousin lives almost within sight of the bridge on the eastern shore. I don’t know exactly where my aunt’s ashes were placed, but it probably wasn’t too far away from there. Those twin steel serpents of the bay were for me a gateway to summer vacation at the beach when I was younger. And then, not long ago, I discovered that the metal monster was (and still is) a gateway to eternity for some unhappy people. But now, me walking its span has become a way remember those loved ones who are gone. That was part of the reason I wanted to do that walk. First to revisit my happy childhood memories, secondly to “conquer” the fearsome metal monster but also to pay tribute to my aunt. In a decade or so, according to the state transit authority, the monster will be gone, replaced with a shiny new set of spans. But the memories of my aunt and uncle will live on for the rest of the family.

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4 weeks ago

I’m sorry for your loss.