Previously, I shared about offering my son’s ashes to Pyramid Lake, Nevada. Allow me to roll back two days to another point on this journey of reflection.
Some background, first. My parents retired to Anderson Valley in Northern California around 40 years ago. They had a happy rural life there, raising sheep and loving their community. Age caught up with them in 2021, first for my mom, and then shortly thereafter for my dad. My sister and I discussed with Dad where to put Mom’s ashes and landed on the idea of choosing an ancient redwood tree at a nearby state park. Obtaining a permit for this was surprisingly easy, and we chose an amazing tree. It had obviously had a hard life. Its trunk divided into two around 100 feet up, and side trunks spoke of trauma from ages ago, but it was still standing proudly above most of the surrounding grove. Perhaps not the largest specimen, but certainly with a rich history. It just “felt” like the right tree.
After my dad passed, I made the journey back with his ashes, placing them in the same spot as my mom’s. My younger son, JohnThomas, was unable to make this trip with his older brother and me because he needed to stay home and take care of his mom. He was a loving son who was the primary caregiver for my wife during her extensive illness and decline. His stoic nature meant he never complained about this, but I suspect he would’ve liked to say goodbye to his grandparents.
Sadly, John Thomas ended his life in May of 2024. The pain of his death has been indescribable.
On my way to Pyramid Lake, I resolved to take JohnThomas’s ashes to visit the tree with my mom’s and dad’s ashes. When I got there, I walked up to the tree, holding his ashes, and had a good cry (I seem to do that a lot these days). A little ways away is a fallen tree that provides a nice place to sit back and contemplate, so I made my teary-eyed way over to it and sat down with JohnThomas in my lap. I had chosen a place to sit completely at random along the 50-60′ exposed length of this log, and when I looked up, I was greeted by an awesome sight:
The sun was shining between the two trunks of “my parents’ tree”. It was perfectly aligned to shine down on my son and me. That was the moment that I was filled with the knowledge that everything was going to be all right. I’ve heard people talking about signs from beyond, but I’ve never witnessed anything like this one. I felt compelled to make this additional journey, but I didn’t know the underlying reason or the “when” of my trip there, or just where to sit on that log. I was just drifting along, like a leaf on a stream, and ended up in this magical moment in time.
Be open to your journey through loss and grief. Listen closely to your unbidden thoughts and ideas. They may take you to experiences that provide a salve for your wounds and heal your soul. I am convinced that there is a kind God who does not want us to suffer endlessly, but the medicine He can provide may not come in the form we expect.
I bid you peace…
