we are all just dust...

A week before the anniversary of my brother's death I decided that I simply could not sit home and cry. I could not remember my brother by doing nothing. I needed to get out of my house, get out of the state, get out of my world and do something. The only one of his friends that I spoke to regularly, Jessie, had spoken to me about my plans for the anniversary a few weeks prior so she was the first one I proposed my idea to. She was instantly on board and within four days we had figured most of the plans out. 

On Sunday, August 2nd I drove down to NYC to pick Jessie up and we began our journey. We planned on driving to Florida, a place my brother lived for a year and a half. This journey was not about Florida. It was about getting away. 

The night before I left my father and I spoke about the other plan I had for the Florida trip. When my brother and I spoke while he was in Florida, he always spoke of Cocoa Beach. He posted photos of Cocoa Beach on myspace and after he returned home still spoke of this beach. It is with this knowledge that I made my mind up that I would spread some of his ashes on the beach and in the ocean. Although growing up my family never vacationed at the ocean, the thought of my brother's ashes floating in the ocean, spreading out across the world, made sense. 

The morning, on the day I was leaving, my father transfered some of my brother's ashes into a small heart shaped tin, and another small container. He handed them both to me and I placed them both in my car. 

The tin and container stayed in the car the entire road trip down to Florida. Jessie and I hardly remembered they were in there. We arrived in Florida on the 4th of August. At 8:04 pm we were eating dinner with my family friends at their house, which was also where we were staying. I remember thinking: I made it one year, I am still in one piece. It took us until Saturday to get to Cocoa Beach. It was a beautiful summer day. Hot sun, and a bit of a breeze. The ocean expanded out to the horizon, flat and endless. We were there all day before I removed the small tin container from my backpack and opened it gently. Silently I took a small pinch of ashes and sprinkled it gently on the sand. My fingers were stained. The ashes invading my fingerprints. As I sprinkled more into the sand, and ran my hands deep within the mounds of sand around me, mixing everything together, tears ran from my eyes, streaming down my checks. In silence I took a handful of ashes and walked to the edge of the ocean. I remember hearing children laughing, voices of parents, of couples. I remember the cool water lapping at my toes, the waves moving quicker in and out. I walked until my knees were emerged in the water and plunged my hands into the ocean. The water washed my hands as I opened them up, releasing my brother's ashes into the sea. I stood and looked towards the endless expanse of space in front of me. 

Our road trip was fun and tiring, adventurous and boring, sad and ultimately happy.