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Scattering Christl’s Ashes
A vigorous little fish rattled the surface
In her last days, Christl said she wanted her ashes scattered off the beach at Alligator Point, about 50 miles from where we live and named for its shape, near where for six years we owned a little cottage in the woods. This beach was her favorite place to walk at dawn. Our sons and I tried to do this when we gathered at the time of her next birthday, but the beach was so crowded we could not find a private spot, so we scattered half the ashes off the nearby beach at Bald Point, also a favorite place to walk, especially at sunset.
Over the next two years, I scattered small portions of Christl’s remaining ashes in about 20 of the places dear to us, so she would always be part of them — the Wacissa River, Wakulla Springs, Lake Hall — many of them places I took her when we were courting. I flew to Vienna with our older son, where we joined with Christl’s sister and niece and grandniece at the edge of the Danube, near where she swam as a girl, scattered a cupful of Christl’s ashes, and watched the deep, swift current carry them downstream toward the sea.
Recently, I woke to a clear, sunny, cool day and suddenly found the heart to drive to Alligator Point beach.
There, I sat in the car a quarter hour looking at dozens of pictures of her, and of our 42…
