Mud Run

So, I recall making mention in a long-ago post that I rarely have dreams about the Bunny, since his death I mean.

He was in my dreams last night.

For those of you NOT in the know, the Bunny was cremated. Whatever one's personal preferences about that - mine included - that specific instruction was clearly communicated to me while he was alive.. the context of it? I sit here in front of my computer, struggling to recall the memory. We weren't having a serious, sit-down discussion about death, mind you; I remember the tone of his voice: it was playful, teasing. As if to say "It's completely ridiculous that I am wasting breath to even say these words, because there's no way on EARTH either of us is going to die anytime soon." I think that's what is so shocking for me, even here, now - a year and a half later - is that he WASN'T SUPPOSED TO DIE RIGHT NOW. It's like those old sci-fi movies, where the heroes time travel and there's this big brou-ha-ha about going here and there, doing this and that... be careful, because you might step on a bug and the entire universe will implode. It's a paradox.

Because we never had that "serious conversation about death" I don't really know what the Bunny would have wanted me to do, not really. The cremation part I got down - but what's really ironic is that now it's my job to get people to pre-plan this stuff, and I myself can't remember my own experience. It is literally a fog. I remember certain people being around - my brother one of those - but as far as normal memory recall, I kind of have to rely on assumption. I look around my surroundings, I see the changes, I see what's missing... I see the box with my husband's ashes, sitting on my dresser. Waiting.

I dreamed the Bunny and I were at my new office, and we were walking around, taking a tour... and there were stacks and stacks of such boxes. "Cremains" they refer to them... I guess it makes it sound more politically correct than saying "ashes." Gentler, somehow. I don't know what difference it makes from the widower's perspective - to me, the result is the same. My husband is dead and in a fucking box. So, we are walking around and apparently we are having a discussion (I don't remember exactly what we were talking about), and the Bunny picks up one of those boxes and tells me something as if to say, "This is what I want you to do," - which in my head I'm thinking, yea, I've done that - NOW what? But then I wake up.

One of the big things in the funeral business is the idea of memorialization. How to remember the person that's died. VERY important for the loved ones left behind. Since coming to the Park I have learned things I didn't know before - and one of the aspects of ashes, particularly, is that once they are scattered, loved ones have no place to visit. Clearly it's important to people, judging by the number of visitors to the Park each day.

I fully intend to see through on the Bunny's final wishes - whether he meant them or was "just kidding" is irrelevant - but my biggest fear in all of this is once that's done, he will be completely gone. Nothing concrete which tells the world, "This was Russell James Downie, husband of Shirley Denise Downie - Living Forever In The Hearts of Those Who Loved Him." Who's to say I don't meet someone and get married some day. I'm not sure right now how I'll feel about losing my name - I mean, after all, it's changed a few times already! It also occurs to me that if I cannot go any place to visit, to remember, to cry - neither can the Bunny's son or the rest of the family. I'm not sure how they would really feel about it - it's never come up, because generally people won't question people who've lost their spouses for fear of being inappropriate or causing them pain. But I would want to know. Maybe I will get the courage up to ask the question.

But not today.