In a moment of deep sorrow, Lynda’s departed husband, Jason, compassionately reminds his beloved wife, that he is not his ashes.
Lynda writes:
“Last summer, I went to my cabin where I left Jason’s ashes. That’s where he loved to be. I had not seen them since I put them in the box the year before. I usually just hug the box they are in, but this time, I had a desperate need to see and feel his ashes through the plastic. I was hoping it would give me some closure. I miss him very much.”
“The first night, I sat and watched a movie with the bag on my lap. It was very comforting. The next day, I found myself hugging the bag of Jason’s ashes and crying. I kept telling myself, “It’s not him” and that I needed to let go of his physical remains. Then, I heard a voice in my head repeating, “It’s not ME!” This seemed odd, as I had ME, telling myself that it was not HIM. It was so clear that I immediately felt it was Jason, and he was with me, and affirming all this, which was very comforting. I still can’t bring myself to spread Jason’s ashes yet, but have been thinking about it.” Continue reading