Friday, June 25th was a bittersweet day for me. I spent precious minutes in the company of my wife before she was cremated. At the funeral home, a chapel was prepared where she was waiting for me.
When I entered the chapel, she was lying peacefully wearing a hospital gown. -"Do not worry honey, I brought you a nice dress and flowers". The funeral director helped me dress my wife for the last time.
The ceremony was a private affair. Some of our friends and family members sent flowers and cards - I read their messages to her. For this meeting, I created a bouquet of flowers from her garden and added to it two flowers from each floral arrangement that she received at home. Special privilege was given to her hands and she held two Ingrid Bergman red roses grown in her garden; her hands were beautiful! She looked peaceful, I am happy that the funeral home did a dignified job and I thank them for that.
For her journey, she wore one of her favorite summer dresses. She looked like a sleeping beauty. I felt sad and overwhelmed by grief, but then, all of a sudden, I felt warm and calm inside; was she talking to me? I remained composed looking at her for the rest of the time while we listen to Maria Callas's romantic songs. Only her and me; need no more.
When the clock stroked 12:15 PM, we got
her ready for the next step of the ceremony, placed all flowers and cards in her coffin, and
transported her some miles west from our city to where the crematorium is.
There, the final goodbye, and she became ashes.
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