Photo by Norma Thatcher
When my husband and I were newlyweds, we both worked in Washington, DC. My office was on the way to my husband’s, so we took the subway together, he’d walk me to my building, then go on his way. The process was reversed at close of day.
My husband has always possessed spectacular taste in clothing. He passed a Talbot’s store between his office and mine, and every so often he’d show up at my work with a Talbot’s gift bag. The other women were so jealous as I pulled out something lovely.
My all-time favorite dress from him was light beige with pale pink roses. A pink satin ribbon hung down from the collar. I called the dress my “ashes of roses” dress. That color name came from a television mini-series that ran in 1983 based on Colleen McCullough’s book The Thorn Birds. Maggie, one of the lead characters, made an entrance at a party wearing her own “ashes of roses” dress.
Even after my dress aged and the material pilled a bit, I couldn’t bear to throw it out. The dress hung in my closet for years after I stopped wearing it.
When Tim died at the age of 22, we had him cremated. His ashes sat in his room next to baby photos and boyhood memorabilia.
A couple of years later, out of the blue, my beloved and nearly 100 year old mother-in-law Rosalie called me and announced she had an important request of me: Would I be willing to place Tim’s ashes in her arms when she died so they could be buried together?
Even after all these years, I can’t write that sentence without crying.
My own mom was frail with Parkinson’s disease from the time my children were young. She died when they were just 10 and 13, so Rosalie was the grandmother my children knew. And I loved Rosalie as though she were my own mother.
So her request to hold my boy’s last earthly remains in her arms for eternity was received in love, the same way in which it had been asked.
I wanted something special to hold Tim’s cremains when the time came to place them beside Rosalie. My memory bear-maker Nancy Caldwell (see post from Oct 17) made a pillow from my ashes of roses dress and attached the satin ribbon. She embroidered Tim’s name and lifespan on top.
On November 7, 2012, Rosalie took her last breath as our family encircled her. The evening before her funeral home viewing, I set about lovingly moving Tim’s ashes into the ashes of roses pillow.
It was one of the saddest things I’ve ever done.
Those ashes were not my son. The beautifully spiritual boy with his light-up-the-room smile was not in that dust. I positively knew he was safe from his demons and in our Heavenly Father’s arms, so it was not a lack of faith that overtook me.
Even though Tim had been dead for four years by that moment, this task of love brought everything rushing back and it seemed like not a single moment had passed since he had been found dead. No parent should ever have to bury a child. And yet life, real life that can be incredibly short, happens.
Some days there will be vibrantly colored roses. And some days there will be ashes of roses.
Take no moment for granted. Cherish life.
Tim Thatcher…forever missed. Oct 6, 1986 – Oct 20, 2008
Oh Norma,
What a beautiful boy and a beautiful story.
Thank you so much for sharing it.
So much love…
Thank you. This is especially dear to me since I know you had already heard this story in person. Love to you.
Norma, what a beautiful but heart wrenching story and what a loving Mother-in-law/Grandmother to request that of you.
We all take so much for granted and forget tomorrow is promised to no one. We need to cherish every day! I, too, cried as I read this and saw the picture of your handsome Timothy at the end. God Bless you. My friend!❤️
I’m so glad we’ve been able to catch up on each other’s lives, even though — like everyone’s lives — that includes heartache as well as happiness.
Norma, your posts are so thoughtful, meaningful and poignant. Tim is beautiful. I’m not sure I have ever really looked into his young face, fearful of adding more pain on top of my own. I am sure your tender soul feels every additional loss you hear about..
This post is especially timely for me as we prepare to inter some of Alex’s cremains. We have looked at so many ideas…this may be an option for some of his ashes to be interred with us when we depart this earthly life.
And you are so right. The ashes are not our beautiful boys. They live on in our memories—those that include their baby steps, their laughter, their many achievements accomplished in so few years, and always, always their smiles that could light up a room. So much love to you.
Kathy, even though we don’t see much of each other, I will always feel a special bond with you. And that’s why I am grateful to have you as a read, as it’s one more connection.
I try to move on, but Tim’s death is so fresh to me, that I wonder if the grieving will ever soften. I visit the cemetery often, and thank God for our Mom’s thought of including Tim’s cremains within “THEIR” casket. Was just there today, and watered the grass with my tears. What a treasure and legacy Mom and Dad have left for us, by their example. Thank you Lord for such loving and guiding parents, and for such a very special nephew, Timothy Glenn Thatcher.
Unk Bill, you were such a significant person in Tim’s life. He loved you…always.
Dearest Norma,
There are no words, only my tears that I too shed for your loss.
Our hearts are broken an will never heal until we see them again.
Each day when I awake, I tell my son, “One more day closer to you”.
This is a beautiful and so loving story that goes full circle and not only touches your family,
but touches all who read this blog.
Sending you love and hugs and prayers.
Thank you for being a supportive and communicative reader and friend. I appreciate your wording of “full circle” because my first and second grade class talked about that concept today. A six year old said, “We use a circle because it has no beginning and no end.”
Like Uncle Bill, I don’t do well going back to the day that “Aunt B’s boy died.” We move on because we have to – thankful for our family, friends, and faith to help us through the grieving process.
And our dear, sweet Nanny knew how to ease the burden of all of us left behind with her request to have Tim’s remains placed in her arms in her casket when she died. Her final act of LOVE!
A very sweet comment–thank you.
Not sure how you do what you do. I’m choking back tears as I write this. You are surely a blessing to so many. Such strength and faith. Would that I could be the same. God’s blessing to you and yours.
That child from Sunday School is a genius !!!!!