April 4, 2025 (noon)

Today I was at my wife’s cremation

There was a storm advisory.  It was raining and cloudy, but everything was still bathed in bright light at noon.  Later that day it became overcast and gray.

The crematorium was shaped like a rectangular box much like the containers inserted into the cremation chamber. 

Nora was lying on a wooden flatbed covered by a rectangle cardboard box beside the cremation chamber.  It was a box in a box in a box.  I asked that a picture be taken.

  

I had to be with Nora during this transition.

I was relieved and pleasantly overcome.  Nora was still wearing her hospital gown and blanket.  She had the hospital paper identifying bracelets still on her wrist.  She had a white paper bracelet on her left ankle (no doubt identifying her to the crematorium). 

She looked very well.  She looked great.  Her eyes and mouth were closed.   She was in her natural state without make-up or primping.  She did not look pale.  She looked peaceful and calm without care or worry.  She looked like she was just sleeping.  I was glad that she was not subjected to any kind of major invasive and transformative procedures.  She genuinely looked like Nora.

But she felt cold.  I said goodbye to her twice.  They had to lift the cardboard covering a second time. 

 I pressed the button to start cremation, (better I, than a stranger).

 The fire raged and roared loud inside that huge metal cremation chamber. 

I faced the opening, standing, hands clasped in what universally is recognized as a sign of praying.  I stood silently in remembrance.   After some time, I lowered my hands, positioned my left palm facing up with my right palm resting over my left.  It is common when giving and/or receiving a gift.

Finally, after some time, I lowered both hands, closed my eyes and stood in repose. 

I left, certain that her remains were reduced to ash.     

Luis