My husband died 18 months ago – he was a morris musician, composer of songs and tunes, folk enthusiast and pagan. We had discussed briefly what he wanted – a cremation and a secular send off, organised by friends. And this we did, followed by singing, morris dancing, playing of tunes and food and much drink. But we had never discussed what to do with his ashes. He had a great sense of ‘place’ and there were some/several obvious places to scatter some of his ashes, including at the top of St Catherine’s hill, in the centre of the maze, in a woodland grove we used to walk to, and in Glastonbury and Avebury. But you get a lot of ashes – I have got some made into a necklace and a ring I wear and get great comfort from. And I have undertaken quite a journey scattering small quantities of his ashes at both places that meant something to him/me and even some new places I have been to since and think he might like – like at ‘Old Mother Shipton’s cave’ in the petrifying water, as I know he would have respected the old ‘witch’ and been amused at being cast into water that had power to turn things to stone. I have even written my ‘travels with my husband’s ashes’ as a story to tell (once so far) at folk festivals. This process is helping me cope and I hope/think he would approve.
