Our friend Terry died. My husband had known he and his wife Kim since high school. Kim and Terry had been high school sweethearts. And then the Vietnam war happened and life. The two married other people, had kids and lived separate lives. But, in the last 5 years, they reconnected and had another passionate, earth-shattering romance. Terry had hepatitis B that he believes he contracted from military vaccines. They struggled with his disease until he took his last breathe with his love, family, and pets by his side.
Kim invited us to her spreading of Terry’s ashes at the coast. We met in a beach town on a windy afternoon. After catching up over lunch, we went to the local market and bought sparklers with a lighter and a bottle of champagne. We ventured out to the jetty. After parking, we walked out the sandy path over the large boulders which made up the peninsula, with Kim carrying her precious urn. We lit the sparklers, said our prayers, toasted Terry, and Kim alone headed down the precarious decline over the rocks to the water’s edge. The wind was roaring out on the precipice but I faithfully pulled out my smartphone, holding it close so as not to accidentally drop it. Kim flung Terry’s ashes high in the air and the wind swept them away before we could even capture what she was doing on from the blustery shore. Or so I thought. What we didn’t know until later, was the event and beautiful picture were captured on my camera. I guess some things are meant to be. RIP Terry, until we meet again.