Some of Evan is staying here in our garden. On the Sunday after Thanksgiving, made possible in part by the global warming November weather, John, Jeannie and I went out front and planted hyacinth bulbs. We added Evan’s ashes to the soil. He loved hyacinths for their look, smell and architecture. . . truly his favorite flower. I will remember him when they bloom in the Spring. There isn’t much to say about this Scatter. Just a father and a mother and a sister missing Evan very much. We always will. I can't really say why, but this Scatter hit me hard. Harder than others though I am happy remembering him. While I am now used to him being gone and the horror (for lack of a better word) of watching his brave struggle with cancer had dulled in my immediate consciousness, the times when I open that memory pit and confront his illness, death and my grief, it feels raw again. It hurts. No matter what I do, the reality is that he is gone and we are here to remember him. Maybe it was just the surreal notion of gardening with your child’s remains – I don't know. And I kept thinking that it would have been equally appropriate to throw ashes around his room and the top floor of the house – his domain- and just vacuum them up. That may sound weird and I could never really do it but he would have appreciated it. If we consider what our home was to him and where he loved to be, that strange idea makes sense. We wanted some of him to stay here but I can't say that the front yard was the most meaningful spot to him. After planting the bulbs, we also buried more of Evan where the ashes of his much loved cats have rested for the last ten years. Robert, Moses and Evan, together again, united in nature and here with us.

I hope that you see hyacinths and he comes to mind. Remembering Evan from time to time is all that we hope for from others. . . and he would like that too.

  - Susan Scofield