Power of very little

When my father shot himself in 1988 - my mother was so mad at him - she interred his ashes in the ocean in Maine. We had a lovely ceremony on Father's Day 1989.


Moody ME jo©

Years later, my mother admitted to me, our dad had wanted to be thrown over the bridge in West Chesterfield Ma into the Westfield River. No one else knew at the time - of his wishes. I have one sister that claims she held some ashes in reserve and later threw them into the Westfield.
She's the black sheep of the family so no one knows if it's true.


Down river: The Chesterfield Gorge / photographer unknown


My mother hated West Chesterfield and never wanted to return there.

She justified putting him in The Atlantic because -
1. The river eventually ends up there.
2. There were a lot of happy family memories connected with our times in Maine that included my dad.
3. We were more likely to visit him there.

Last year when she died her only request was to be scattered from the summit of Mount Holyoke.


Oxbow Of The Connecticut Near Northampton
Metropolitan Museum, New York
Cole, 1801-1848

Universty Prints, Boston

I was quite surprised to hear this since she would be nowhere near my dad. But she insisted.

When family members spoke up and said they felt there would be no closure for some of them without a church service I got her permission as power of attorney to hold it.
She agreed, but needed to be assured that her ashes would indeed be scattered over our valley.

Let me tell you, being power of attorney is no fun. It's an honor and a privelege but one of the most difficult things I've done.

Over time I began to call myself power of very little. Just a bit of humor to see myself through.

One brother went so far as to tell the minister while we were arranging services that my mother and he were never Christians and that he objected to the service entirely.(He was baptized in a Congregational church.)

Once I told the minister that my mom was baptized a Catholic but attended Lutheran and Congregational churches all her life - till my dad moved her to a place where she had no access to church and that I was her legal voice there was no more discussion.

As it stands right now I have one sister annoyed with me because I won't allow her to save some ashes to bring to Paris because our mom always wanted to go there. It's my belief she would not want her ashes to be separated. In my mind she can go anywhere she wants now that she no longer has a body to drag her down. In any case, my sister didn't think to take the time to ask her permission, so I have to say no.

One other brother thinks we should throw her off the bridge in West Chesterfield for payback. He's only half kidding but will go along with me when I tell him no.

Learning To Fly by Linda Post / Michelson Galleries
This painting inspired my mom's final wishes.

Spring has come around and soon it will be time to keep my promise to her. We will have a picnic on the summit of Mt Holyoke and watch while a plane or balloon inters her ashes. She would want us to be happy not sad.
I'll do my best.