Ashes To Go

I remembered falling over the cliff. My feet were scrambling,and my ankles were rolling. I put out my hands to stop the fall I knew was coming and went over the edge. 

So much blood. I could feel it. Taste it. Looking into rounded small stones, not pebbles but bigger - but not rocks.

I heard someone yelling, “Oh my God! Call 911.”

What am I running from?

Then I slipped into darkness.

After waking up in a hospital bed with the smell of clean sheets and antiseptic all around I opened my right eye and saw that I was in a room by myself. A figure appeared in the doorway and said, “Oh good. You’re awake.” Then turned and left the room.

What’s good about that? I don’t know anything, not even how badly I’m injured.

It seemed like an hour passed but I’m sure it was only a minute or two when the figure and more people came into the room.

“Charlotte! I was so worried. I’m glad you’re awake. Can you see me?”

What difference does that make? I don’t have a clue who you are or why you care about me.

At least I knew my name was Charlotte and not Madeline or something like that. Charlotte sounded like a good name.

A young man ran into the room and came way too close to the bed as he reached out to touch my arm. I jerked it away just in time. He stopped and stared at my face and said, “Oh, God. Look at you. What happened? Why were you running toward that cliff?”

I had no answer and wished he would go away and let me organize my thoughts.

Someone strode into the room with the air of authority that an only a doctor would have and I looked at him with what I hoped was an appeal for help in ridding my room of visitors. He seemed to understand and asked everyone except the nurse to leave. Then he looked at me and softly said, “I’m glad you’re awake but I’m sorry to have to ask you some questions. Is that okay?”

I sighed and said yes. After all, I was at his mercy. Their mercy. Everyone’s mercy. What else could I do except feign unconsciousness, which they would soon figure out that I was faking.

“I don’t remember why I was running but I will tell you as soon as I figure it out.”

He smiled and said, “Thata girl.”

I cringed. Jeez, I didn’t need to be patronized on top of not knowing where the hell I was or why.

A day went by, and I was again inundated with visitors. What seemed like a spokesperson for the group said, “You fell onto the beach from a cliff over by Dansbury. Nobody knew who you were. They called 911. They thought they saw a shadow figure on the cliff but nobody could make out if it was male or female and we were worried when we heard what happened and we can’t understand why you were in Dansbury and who could have been with you and we don’t even know when you left home and there was wind

…”

Thank God the voice trailed off because what I didn’t need at that moment was more confusion about my situation. “Shut up,” I said to no one in particular. “I need to think.”

After everyone left the room, one man came in and claimed to be my husband. I vaguely recognized him, and he didn’t seem terribly distressed about my mess of a face, so I thought he probably was telling the truth.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember anything right now, but they tell me I will be better in a couple of days. Is there anything you need to tell me now because I really want to rest.”

“Well, my name is Dave, and we are married and live in Hudson where we work. That’s all I’m going to tell you for now. Get some rest and I’ll be back to see you on Thursday. The hospital can get ahold of me if you ask. I love you. Don’t forget that.” He leaned down and kissed my hand, probably so as not to cause me pain by kissing my bruised and battered face.

On Thursday I was doing much better except for the pain I felt all over – mostly my face, hands, knees, ankles, elbows and right shoulder. I had time to think and still didn’t remember much except that I was chasing something, although I couldn’t remember what, and it flew off the cliff and I stumbled and went over. It was all a blur but I remembered screaming and hitting the ground.

So, why was I in Dansbury and what was I chasing after?

I asked the nurse for some hot tea. Hot tea always made me relax and remember obscure things I couldn’t think about when I was stressed. What I remembered was that I was carrying an urn with ashes. That’s what flew over the cliff. Not a bird or a small animal but ashes. Falling out of an urn. 

They had to be my grandmother’s ashes. I remembered being upset about a story I read of a family who threw out the old man’s ashes because they just couldn’t be bothered worrying about them when their lives were so active. They were living in the house he bequeathed them but somehow that didn’t matter, and they threw his hand carved box of ashes in the trash. There was no ceremony or remembrance of his life at all. He was just thrown in the trash.

I also remembered that I had my grandmother’s ashes, and it had occurred to me that no one who knew her was still alive except for two cousins who didn’t know her well and couldn’t care less what happened to her ashes. Dave had never met her and when I talked about her, he listened politely but didn’t ask any questions and seemed happy to let the subject lie. I couldn’t stand the thought that if I was to die, her ashes would probably be dumped in the trash just like that old man. So, I took them to Dansbury. I planned on talking with her before scattering her ashes at the top of the cliff so she could float over her favorite beach below. It was going to be a solitary performance just between her and me.

I held the urn close to me as I approached the cliff above the beach when a strong wind came up and propelled me toward the edge. I lost my balance and, in my effort to hold her urn tight to my chest, I became unbalanced and tripped over a small bush. The urn fell out of my arms, and I tried to catch it. I was close to the edge and watched the urn as it flew out of my hands and Grandma’s ashes went flying over the cliff to the beach below. That’s when I fell.

Dave came to the hospital to see me on Thursday, and I was glad that I remembered him. I told him why I had been in Dansbury and what had happened and he was very quiet. Eventually he said, “I just want you to know, Charlotte, that I will not ever let anyone throw you in the trash. I love you too much and I also think that nobody deserves that.”

Then he leaned over and lightly brushed his lips on mine.