My brother was cremated. Mostly because his children could not afford a costly funeral home ordeal that would not reflect him in any real way.
Instead his ashes were given to his oldest daughter who organized a gathering of family members at his favorite fishing spot. There she and her brothers said the twenty third psalm and everyone prepared to go to his farm. Once at the farm, the ashes were opened to anyone wanting to help spread a handful of Tom onto the land and into the wind of his favorite place on earth.
We talked about him with family and friends and it was the modern day, sunshiny version of an Irish wake. A grandson happened to snap a photo of my brother's four children throwing his ashes into the air. You can see what appears to be almost an aura above them, really his dust. It is one of the most touching pictures I have ever seen.
Afterwards anyone who wanted to, went out to dinner at a local restaurant which sort of replaced the old custom of going back to the house after the funeral. This was the most meaningful funeral I have ever been to. It definitely reflected on who my brother was and what he would have appreciated if he had been alive.
Rather than supporting the usurious rates of cemetery plots, funeral homes, embalming and other expensive paraphernalia of modern day death dealers, I think it is time to make death a personal experience. I still have the feeling that my brother is here beside me, part of the sky, the earth and the wind.
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