The Ties That Bind

You died a year ago today and I find myself drawn here again
To where we used to live on Coltrane Mill Road
I'm not sure why this place calls to me so strongly
Whenever I think of you, I just know that it does

Kodi and I walk towards the water's edge
Down this now dirt path
That once was a two-lane paved road
That fronted our 5.5 acre corner lot

Most of which is under water now
You'd never recognize the place
I don't think you ever came back by here
After the new bridge was finished

You never saw how everything has changed
There is no evidence that we ever lived here
There's no house or shed
Or anything familiar except for the roadbed

All traces of the past and the unique history
Of this area are gone, there's no grist mill
No dam, no one-lane wooden bridge
They were either removed or are buried under water

In their place is a new modern bridge that's high in the air
Looking down over everything that is now lost
I take a deep breath and release it
Trying to let go of these disconcerting thoughts

I try to see the beauty that is here now but it's hard
Standing at the edge of the lake
I look out across the surface of the water
I hear the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore

A sound that's normally a calming one to me
It's not a sound I ever associated with this place
I miss the roar of the water as it rushed over the old dam
But that sound will never be heard here again

My thoughts turn inward from my surroundings
To the similarities I have in common with this place
To the loss that I have suffered
To the things I miss, to you

I think about the last time I was here
It was last year after your memorial service
After the visitation back at Mom's house
Where I could've sworn I heard your voice speak to me

But I left there, the last place you ever lived
To come here, where you haven't lived in a really long time
For some reason I must feel closer to you here
Even though it's unsettling and unfamiliar now

Some part of me still feels tied to this place
I loved it here, there was so much to explore
So much to do, running, fishing, parking, and taking photos
Long walks by the river to think, falling in love and having sex

It was also the last place I lived with you and Mom
Before moving out and living with my girlfriend
It's the last place where we were part of
Each other's lives on a daily basis

I wonder if some ethereal part of me
Or of us still exists here at this place
Even though we've both moved on
Neither of us physically dwells here anymore

Your last wish was to have your ashes scattered
On the property out in Summerfield
But I feel no connection with that place
That's where you and Mom lived

It's a nice piece of property
That's way out in the country
With a house and a barn that you built
You even made the pond as well

But that's not where I wanted to scatter some of your ashes
Ever since Mom received them, I saw myself here
I know it shouldn't be about me and what I want
And yet here I am ready to do this

I reach into my pocket and pull out the small green glass jar
As I crouch down I remove the cork stopper
And pour the contents over the shallow water
At the edge of the lake

Silently repeating words I've heard before
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
From the earth you came
To the earth you are returned

Fascinated, I watch the fine powder beneath the surface
It billows like a dust cloud would in the air
As it merges and dissipates into the water
It follows a small crevice downward

While larger particles settle on the bottom
It looks like a pile of white sand on red clay
The contrast is stark and there are fragments of bone
Mixed in as well that look like little rocks

With a small twig I scatter the pile of ashes out a bit
To make it less obvious that something was deposited here
Then I make a joke, using an announcer voice I say
"Human remains were found today at the edge of Randleman Lake"

I laugh thinking you'd have appreciated the joke
You used humor all the time to defuse stressful situations
A joke was one of the last things you said to me
I miss your sense of humor, mine's a lot like yours though

I stand and take another deep breath and let it out
To try to relieve some of the sadness of the moment
At the reality of what I've just done
And the fact that you've been gone for a year

As Kodi and I start to walk back up the hill towards the car
I try to recall where the house used to be
But it's so hard to tell since a lot of the soil
Was excavated and used in the construction of the bridge

Then I smile to myself at the thought
Of something you said once
That it would be nice to fish from our back deck
But unfortunately that was never to be

I hope you don't mind that a small portion of you
Has become part of the landscape
Of this much loved place from our past
One more tie that binds me here

4.25.08