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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1997843
by DMC123
Rated: E · Draft · Adult · #1997843
Smoke, a soul, ascends From the Crematorium ascends
This is the view out our front way here in Novato. We chose this property of 3 that were available 36 years ago because it was a little elevated—actuallyly it was Anita—my wonderful wifey that picked it. Our place is opposite a Cemetary that preceded us having been established a few years before on the old ranch property of the “Bugeia Brothers”. When we built here their operations were out of a trailer on the property—but backed by a well established buriel family—the” Duggan’s” of San Francisco. I had actually ben a customer of theirs for my Grand Mother and Father and then again for the early demise of my sister –Judy. During our build out we became close friends with the grave digger---Paul. He would hi-jack the back-hoe and help us to landscape and move large quantities of soil and rocks---. His boss “the Duggan kid”, having very little to do untill someone died,----would come over and watch us work---constantly asking questions---he was quite a distraction!

We bought and built here for several reasons but the main of which was our way of “breaking in’ to a decent neighborhood and the schools that were available for our then growing family. Sort of our “sweat equity” approach to being upwardly mobile. Our little neighborhood continued to evolve, we bacame “horsey” then “Sporty” and finally “Boy Scouty”. We met and got to know most all of the neighbors. We partied, planned, vacationed, remodeled, improved, sent the kids off to college and generally lived the American Dream right here in our own yard.

Wel----l now---- “where have all the flowers gone”-----“Long time passing”-----off to College, off to a job, off to marriage, off to children of their own ---burdens---challenges---to the point is is difficult if not impossible to get a boquet together these days! We do try ---on Thanksgiving---Christmas—we -invite---we cajole, we critize—some times it works and some times it doesn’t---but we keep trying—thinking there is nothing that can replace Christmas or Thanksgiving at Grandma’s house.

But—in between the get- togethers---events---traveling---is the sometimes boredom of a lonely melincholy daily routine and the view out the front.

This morning on my way out to retrieve the mornig missive put together by our local media folks, I noticed smoke coming from the Duggan Crematorium—now residing across the way from us. There it was billowing forth above the Architecturelly Churchy headquarters of “ the soon to be departed” facilitaters. I wondered as I first gazed upon this scene---is this a “No Burn Day” –here in lovely Marin? Do these particulates, being thrust hi in to the air by the searing heat below---wander forth to agitate the populace? Are the ingredients of this cloud consumed in breath by the good citizens of Novato? Does this consumption contribute to the reincarnation of our newly departed? Who knows!

I gazed in wonder at the smoke. I searched for my camera to get a shot of this ascension. I captured it as fully as I could in the brief time it had to escape the bowels of the firey boiler below and ascend slowely, majestically in to the sky above. I imagine the essence of this being escaping our earth and entering the bounds of heaven above. I wonder, were they too saddeled with the myriad hope, joy and heartbreak that fills the lives of most of us? Were they happy to go or had they work left to do? Did they appreciate their lot or disdain their suffering. Who knows!

I gaze again in wonder at this ascending cloud----and think---it must be the soft tissue---the hair and extremeties at the top---which would succumb first—and then---in the middle –the core of our being---followed lastly by the frame of ourselves---the foundation, what we are built upon. So it would be our face, our hair our ears our extremities that would reach Heaven ---followed by our core and frame. We could first see and feel our heaven---what we had been promised.---Again---Who Knows?

Well, back with the paper and my coffee in hand I sit at the kitchen table---waiting for Anita to bring a ray of sunchine in to my dark morning thoughts---and there she is---smiling and cheerful.---What’s up she says—“ Oh, not much I say----it must be a burn day tho----I saw some smoke out front.

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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1997843