former people, what do they look like, smell like, taste like= cremation/a process of breaking down a being into its essential matter…
He made up my life, loving, damaging, never really leaving me—ever.
Matthews journey back to his ‘yard’ began with the receipt of a brown paper covered box [in a plain wrapper] with the
words..”the remains of …….
taking that box down from my closet shelf [finally] was the second worse day of my life, the first was the day a police officer called and said …..in a very detached, unruffled manner..
“your son Matthew has expired..”
Yes, I spread his ashes in his/our yard, focusing on a corner up front.
Here he was under my fingernails and yes I ingested some of what was left of my boy.
mom
