As V and I walk out of the theater after the movie, my phone rings.
It’s Judy; I tell her where we are. “What a coincidence! I just saw it, too. Of course Dick would have wanted to rush out and see it Friday on opening day—but I decided today was better—it was the perfect way to spend our 44th anniversary.”
That makes sense—on one level. Dick was a movie publicist and film aficianado; as a member of the Motion Picture Academy, he even got to vote for the Oscars.
But here’s the thing: Dick died several months ago.
Yet he really was at Moneyball with Judy. Inside a dufflebag on her lap.
“He would have loved it,” Judy says. And she didn’t mean just the movie.
I agree. He would have loved that they both got into the movie for the price of one ticket–a two-fer.
Even more he would have loved the idea that Judy feels less alone by having his ashes nearby. That somehow they can continue “sharing” life experiences—like joining the whole family out for dinner after his memorial service. (Although technically Dick wasn’t “at ” the table ; he was under it, his first outing in the dufflebag.)
Before this starts to sound like the premise for a new comedy, I want to say that Judy is no lunatic. Far from it.
I totally love her thinking; and I totally would do this. I also think it’s possible Judy’s ahead of her time. (not intended as a pun although somehow it sounds like one).
I have no stats but I suspect cremation is increasing, even among Jews who aren’t supposed to do it.
Judy certainly isn’t the first person I know to find comfort having their loved ones’ ashes nearby . But she’s the first to uncover so much humor in it.
“Can you imagine”, she asked me, ” if the person next to me at the movie knew the contents of my bag?”
So you might want to look closer next time you go someplace. Judy’s idea might just catch on.
At the very least, she promises Dick will be getting out again. Says Judy, “My next challenge is to qualify us for the carpool lane.”
P.S. FYI I highly recommend Moneyball— and I’m speaking for all three four of us….
Is it possible I enjoyed reliving my Moneyball experience almost as much as that day itself.
Thank you for putting a big smile on my face.
I’ll keep you posted on our continuing adventures. My own Weekend with Bernie.
Aside from taking Dick to NY on my next trip, I’m just about game for anything. I somehow don’t think the TSA agents would share my sense of humor or new level of togetherness.
xoxox
I can’t begin to do justice to your experience the way you told it to me. But thank YOU for putting a huge smile on my face—with your story, your comment, and just being you.
Makes sense to me. When my husband died in 1992 his kids and I planted a nectarine tree over his ashes. It was creepy eating the first fruits the next year. When I moved I took the tree with me and now it is in my patio providing enough nectarines to share when the 8 step-grandkids visit every August–and then some.
I think it’s charming that she takes him to the movies.
When my husband’s parents died, they wanted their ashes to be spread on the Rogue River in Oregon, so we put them in the trunk of the car, and drove from the Bay Area up to Ashland, Oregon, stopping along the way at each town where they had spent time during his teaching/coaching career. We would open up the trunk, tell them where we were, take them in with us for a meal or the night, and go on our way again. It was sort of like the last round-up, after which we found a secluded spot on the Rogue and co-mingled their ashes and watched them float into eternity. It was lovely.
It’s been written for many years now that I wish my ashes scattered in the Venice lagoon. After reading this, maybe a re-think is called for. Perhaps holding just a little bit back … in a small pouch … might be a good idea … the portion with a sense of humor … for the occasional outing, a funny movie, a nice dinner with friends. Yes. I like the thought of that.
What a wonderful —and sweet way to memorialize sweet memories. It must give you so much pleasure to eat and share the fruits of your relationship—and thanks so much for sharing it here, too.
Thank you for commenting—Obviously I think so too. And after I’m gone, I wouldn’t mind if someone takes me to the movies sometimes.
So I guess Judy wasn’t the first one to take loved ones out to dinner after they’re gone.
Thanks so much for sharing this story. What a beautiful trip and beautiful memory for you and your husband—It’s really fascinating to me hearing about the choices people make and ways they choose to remember and be remembered. I guess it’s no surprise that I started thinking about this stuff years ago when I first got cancer. Still haven’t made any decisions—since I’m assuming it’s WAY too early.
I like your thinking—and Judy’s. I’m with you—-only not the part in the Venice lagoon.