Memorial Madness

Okay, this posting isn’t about uncontrolled emotions and the gasping breath and hands to our breast, but all of it happened today, and Michelle and I are still shaking our heads.

Today the two of us took all the dried petals from the flowers we were given after Kyle died, and new roses from our gardens to Te Mata Peak in Hawkes Bay to commemorate Kyle’s one year anniversary.

We planned to memorialise him by tossing petals to the wind, the same as we had when we left Morro Bay after he died, but somewhere between thought and action, Murphy and his law took over.

I can’t help but wonder if Murphy was aided and abetted by Kyle, and by my friend’s son, Brent.

The scenario : Mich and I carried the box containing the dried petals up to the best point on the peak. We had a 360 degree view of breathtaking scenery. It seemed a fitting place to be. The wind was blowing and the day sunny. Mich took photos of a solo peregrine falcon riding the air currents below us, and the river wound silver between lush green fields. It was all pastoral and peaceful. We had the place to ourselves.  Michelle left for a moment to get water from the car.

What happened next was, well…..unbelievable.

While I was standing at the top of the peak overlooking God’s creation thinking about Kyle, Michelle’s flip flops caused her to slip on the grass, and she fell, then ROLLED ass over teakettle down a small embankement. If it hadn’t been for the boulder at the edge of the embankment, she’d have continued rolling into the middle of the parking lot.

I was oblivious and knew nothing about it because Michelle was lying in the grass laughing.

Finally our moment of solemnity.

We opened the box. Michelle took photos of the dried flowers and we lifted the tissue paper they were in out in one move. We prepared for the pain.

 ‘Do you want to throw them by the handful or all at once,’ I asked.

‘Let’s do them all at once.’

We looked at each other, the scenery, the flowers, and we heaved, both of us anticipating spiritual symbolism as the petals were carried over the valley by the wind.

What we got was a resounding ‘plop’ as all the flowers fell out of the tissue onto the ground on the other side of the safety barrier.

We stared at each other for the longest time, and at the mound of dried flowers at our feet, then back at each other and back to the dormant flowers , expecting, I suppose, for  them to do ANYTHING but lie there on the ground.

We started laughing.

The wind blew.

‘Thank God,’ I thought. ‘The wind will lift the petals’.

Nothing. The  flowers still lay there.

“Maybe they just need a prod,’ I thought.

I looked for a stick. I couldn’t find one, so I collected my umbrella from the car.

Michelle staggered around laughing hysterically. 

I returned with my umbrella and poked at the flowers through the fence, urging the petals to catch the breeze.

I decided I was using the wrong end of the umbrella, so I started whacking the pile of dried flowers with the curved end. I dislodged divots of grass, but the dried flowers stayed put. A woman came up the peak, saw me leaning over the security rail whacking at the ground with the umbrella, and left.

Michelle laughed harder.

By then I was unable to breathe myself. I was afraid I’d wet my pants, I was laughing so hard.

‘Let’s do the live roses,’ I suggested.

These roses were fresh, tender, fragrant things from our gardens, and they had been sacrificed out of love.

We picked the petals and held them in the air. The wind caught them and carried them six inches over the barrier.  We gasped in anticipation.

The petals fell to the ground .

By the time we finished, the verge was littered with rose petals, but only a few had made it into the air over the valley.

The ridiculousness of it all was such a Kyle thing. We could almost hear him laughing . It’s the kind of thing he would have made a parody of.

Finally we left, satisfied that we had passed a point in our process that needed to be passed.

All I have to say is when I go back to Te Mata Peak in a few months, those freakin’ flowers better be gone.

~ by zestymuz on October 25, 2011.