Tag Archives: granite

Cremate

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Cremate: (v) to reduce a dead body to ashes by fire

I grew up with a “Kellogg’s” approach to death and burial.

This was more or less taking your loved one, sticking him or her in a box, sealing the lid and tucking the flake away.

All the funerals I went to had gorgeous cereal boxes. They all ended up at a gravesite where the container was lowered into the ground, covered over and marked with a stone that insisted in granite that this individual once lived.

So when my thirteen-year-old son passed away from complications due to a hit-and-run accident, I was far from any home we had, traveling on the road. I immediately discovered that those boxes ain’t cheap.

Not only are they expensive, but they demand that you buy a plot of land—which is also extremely costly—and place your loved one in an area where you must to drive to visit.

Well, I realized I was not going to live in the community where my boy died, so I was offered the option of cremation. It was considerably less money. Also, at the end of the process, they handed over a box containing a sealed, plastic bag of dusty and ashy remains.

It was rather shocking. Opening the lid, I took a peek at the contents. It reminded me of when I was a kid and was given the job in late October of cleaning the fireplace out so we would be able to make a nice, cozy flame on cold, winter nights.

… Ashen, clingy powder that wanted to stick to your skin—or if you got it too close to your face and inhaled, could make you cough.

This was not my son. This didn’t represent his brief journey.

I thought to myself, maybe it’s a good thing. Instead of painting up something that’s dead and gone, burn it up, confirming that it will no longer be here.

I picked up the carton, put it in the back of our van, and we traveled with it for years—stuck in the corner near the wheel well.

At times I considered scattering the ashes, but there was no particular place that had more significance than another. Absent finding a resting ground for his soot, I felt more inclined to just keep him nearby.

Matter of fact, he’s still with us.

My younger son has taken him and lifted him up in honor … in a corner of the attic.

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Chisel

Chisel: (n) a long-bladed hand tool with a beveled cutting edge

His name was Michelangelo.

And for those of you under the age of twenty-five, I’m not talking about the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. This was a real guy who was a
painter, a sculptor and just an overall talented human being.

One of his famous works is called “David.” It’s a statue of the King of Israel when he was a younger man–totally naked, with a non-porn-sized penis.

I believe it’s made of granite. Whatever it was made of, it started out as a piece of rock, and from that rock Mike (shall we call him?) chiseled a human being.

Now, I realize that God’s pretty special because He made people out of the dust of the Earth. I’m taking nothing away from the Creator for such magnificent use of common material. But for God’s sake–Mike made a human out of rock.

So one day, I was staying at someone’s house and they had a chisel, and one of those hammers which is used to strike it. I went out and found a rock. It was not granite, but after a couple of whacks I was able to dislodge a piece of stone from its sedimentary mindset. What was left behind was jagged, coarse and ugly. The statue of David, on the other hand, is smooth, glistening and skin-like.

It just made me stand back and gasp in wonder.

Even though it’s popular nowadays to chronicle the evil perpetrated by the human race so as to plump up ratings and give people who own two suits and three ties a chance to go on television and talk about their opinions, I would like to stop for one second and admire, with great joy, a human being who could take a chisel and a hammer and pull a human likeness from a hunk of rock.

 

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