• Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Skip to footer
  • 20 Top Tips
  • About Marion
  • Online Classes
  • My System
  • Coaching & Editing
  • Books
  • Blog
  • Podcast
  • Contact
  • Home

Memoir coach and author Marion Roach

Welcome to The Memoir Project, the portal to your writing life.

Ashes to Ashes, A Holiday Memoir

EVERY TIME THE holidays come around I am reminded that one of these days I simply have to do something with my mother’s ashes. It’s been more than twenty years since she died. This length of stay out of the grave, or water or air, is not that startling. My father’s ashes have been in a closet at my sister’s house for more than 30 years, and though I tell myself that the right ritual will present itself, even the turn of the century came and went without inspiring an interment.

My mother was in her 40s when she displayed the first signs of Alzheimer’s disease. She was carefully monitored in life and autopsied at death. The autopsy was pre-arranged, as was the transfer of the body to a crematorium in Manhattan, about three hours from where I live. I think the name of the place was Sal’s.

My mother died the day after Thanksgiving. Despite the holiday I called the crematorium and was put right through to Sal, the owner, who said all the right things: He was sorry for my loss, there was no reason to attend the cremation and that he took checks.

After the check cleared, he said, he’d send them.

“Send what?” I asked.

“The remains.”

“Send them?”

“In the mail,” he said. Federal Express, it seems, does not take human remains.

Sal was very convincing. More so, 10 days later, when my check bounced.

For whatever the subliminal and not-so-subliminal reasons a woman might have for bouncing a check to Sal’s Lower East Side Crematorium, it did–or rather, I should say, I did bounce it. And while I’d like to say that my bookkeeping got undone in the planning of a funeral and burial, we know that’s not true.

I overnighted a money order and apologized profusely to Sal on the phone and in writing. I said I was sorry again, over the phone, 10 days later, when the ashes still hadn’t shown up. And, in another two weeks’ time, when, still, the package hadn’t come.

Then, on Christmas Eve, the phone rang. It was the nice lady at my pint-size rural post office.

“I have a package for you,” she said cheerily.

It wasn’t surprising, considering the season. But I knew better.

“I’ll be right down,” I said.

The postmistress was wearing a Santa hat. That helped. There in her hands was a brown paper package that easily could have contained a large can of coffee. “It’s heavy,” she said, smiling.

She and I saw each other nearly every day, but she didn’t know about the death. The life my mother had wanted had been over years before and only my friends knew she had finally died.

So the postmistress stood there in her hat, displaying her best holiday cheer, a plate of cookies at her elbow, behind a counter cross-gartered with a ribbon like a big, wrapped gift. I started to sweat right about the time she put the package to her ear and started to shake it.

“I hope it’s not broken,” she said, as the contents sifted back and forth.

“Let’s see who it’s from,” I said, an octave higher than my usual speaking voice, as I gently lowered it from her ear to the counter.

Sal had been good enough to use his first and last name, and not that of his business. That was a gift.

“Ooh,” she said, “Someone in New York City. You know him?”

I eased the package from her hands into mine, and then, when it was securely against my heart, I was able to feel how to make the panic stop and allow the private cleanup work of grief to begin.

“It’s from Uncle Sal,” I said. “On my mother’s side.”

Does my mother live in New York City, too?

“No,” I said, not looking down at the box between us. “She died some time ago.”

“I’m sorry, “ she said. “What do you think it is?” she asked, beaming back at the box.

“Same thing he always sends.” I said. “Bulbs.” I gave the box a tender shake. “Packed in sand. Lovely flowers you start indoors in winter.” And I backed away from the counter, cradling the box in my arms, saying, “Happy holidays.”

From time to time I am running the copy from essays I’ve read on NPR’s All Things Considered. This is one of those.

Share this:

  • Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn

Related posts:

  1. How to Use Lists to Write Memoir: In Memoriam to the Best List Writer I’ve Known
  2. The Memoir Project in Washington Post. What Holiday Joy.
  3. Food Memoir: Finding Story Amid Recipes

GET THE QWERTY PODCAST

Qwerty Podcast logo

Subscribe free to the podcast

DON’T MISS an episode of Qwerty, the podcast for memoir writers. You can subscribe to all future editions on Apple Podcasts or Spotify or Stitcher, or anywhere podcasts are distributed.

Reader Interactions

Comments

  1. Andrea Heitzman says

    December 24, 2011 at 7:05 pm

    Marion,
    It is ten years since my mum passed away. I miss her dearly, especially now. She was my BFF. I could call her at anytime, even from thousands of miles overseas. She would listen..just listen. I think ot the times I took her forgranted.
    The other day, I was clearing out my closet of clothes I wanted to donate to Goodwill, when I came across a pink sweater that had belonged to mum. I held it closed to my chest, and I took in a short breath…I could smell her cologne…simple but sweet. I was overcome with grief. I feel to the floor, sobbig uncontrollably. I needed her words of encouragement, her arms wrapped around me. reassuring me that “it will be fine honey”.
    My mum was buried next to my father in Indianapolis, Indiana. I find myself thinking who is taking care of the site. Then I realized that mum’s spirit lives within me, I see it when I look into the mirror …my wrinkles are her wrinkles, and I smile.

    • marion says

      December 26, 2011 at 5:07 pm

      “My wrinkles are her wrinkles.” Oh my. I am laughing through my tears. Just lovely. Thank you, Andrea. I do believe your mother lives within you, which is a great place to write from it seems, yes?

  2. Myrna says

    January 16, 2012 at 12:12 pm

    I was mad at my Dad when he died, but I was at peace with my state of mind. I felt justified and righteous in my decision to stand my ground and keep my boundaries regarding his drinking and our relationship. I loved him and hated him, which caused me no end of confusion when he passed. I was mourning his death, but why, if he was such a bastard in life? Each of my siblings took turns saying something about my Dad at his memorial service, but I refused to speak, because I felt it was all lies and I wasn’t going to be a hypocrite. I wanted to grieve with my siblings, but I mostly found myself alone. When we arrived for my Dad’s burial, I carried his ashes into the house, my whole life flashing before me. I felt that somehow, I had always carried my Dad.

    • marion says

      January 16, 2012 at 1:07 pm

      Hi, Myrna. I love the fascinating limning of the line between being mad and being at peace. What a marvelous place to write from. Wonderful. Thank you for sharing this.

  3. Regina Gravante says

    September 15, 2016 at 9:13 pm

    Marion,
    When reading your posts I found myself relating to you and everything that you experiencing at the time that these life events were taking place. You see, my dad died some years ago and although I loved him and mourned his loss, I barely knew who he was. My dad, had issues with drugs, alcohol, woman and any other thing that he could be addicted to. He had an Addictive type personality and although he loved us the best way that he knew how, he was sick and absent more than he was present in our lives. In the end his lifestyle finally got the best of him. He contracted HIV which after many years turned into AIDS and died in Baltimore, Maryland away from us. I guess the saving grace about my father’s life was a couple days before his death he had excepted Christ into his life, asking his to forgive him for all that he had done and saying that he believed that Jesus died on the cross for him. I also relate to your story because three years ago, my mom was given four to twelve month to live. She was diagnosed with stage four Lung cancer. Well, by the grace of God, three years later; she is still here. Unlike your story, my mom and I were not close while I was growing up. My mom was Physically abusive but after she was diagnosed with stage four Lung ; everything changed. Now I can say that my mom is my best friend and when I need advice, she always know exactly what to say. I am grateful that she is still with us in the land of the living but when she goes on we will all miss her dearly.

    • marion says

      September 20, 2016 at 10:52 am

      Dear Regina,
      Thanks for being in touch.
      My advice is to write your tale and see what you learn from it.
      I think you’ll be amazed.
      Best,
      Marion

    • marion says

      October 12, 2016 at 9:11 am

      Dear Regina,
      Thank you for your honesty and your warmth.
      Both are powerful tools. Use them well.
      Best,
      Marion

Primary Sidebar

GET THE QWERTY PODCAST

Qwerty Podcast logo

Subscribe free to the podcast

DON’T MISS an episode of Qwerty, the podcast for memoir writers. You can subscribe to all future editions on Apple Podcasts or Spotify or Stitcher, or anywhere podcasts are distributed.

Join the newsletter

Subscribe to get my latest content by email.

Success! Now check your email to confirm your subscription.

There was an error submitting your subscription. Please try again.

We won't send you spam. Unsubscribe at any time. Powered by Kit

SITEWIDE SEARCH

Books I recommend to learn to write memoir

Learning to write begins with reading. Click on any photo above and go to my Suggested Reading List. Then what? Put away the prompts and exercises. Stop practicing and learn to write with intent. How? Come join my Live Online Classes.

SEE MY WRITING SYSTEM

BUY MY HOW-TO MEMOIR WRITING BOOK

  • Amazon

TOPICS

POPULAR STORIES

  • Differing Versions of a Family Tale? No Problem.
  • What Tone Should Memoir Take? In Praise of Humility in Memoir
  • How Writers Figure Things Out, with Joan Wickersham
  • How to Be a Freelance Writer & More, with Author Gloria L. Huang
  • Need a Memoir Topic? Use the Calendar

Footer

SITEWIDE SEARCH

JOIN ME ON INSTAGRAM

MARION ROACH SMITH MemoirCoach

mroachsmith

I teach & coach memoir to inspire the writing life you want.
Author of 4 books. Work w/ me to write yours.
Tap link to connect.

Join @lailaswrites and I as we discuss how to beco Join @lailaswrites and I as we discuss how to become a freelance writer on the QWERTY podcast. Link in my bio to listen in. 

#writingcommunity #memoirauthor #memoirwriting #memoircoach #booktok #memoir
You’ve heard about the importance of the first l You’ve heard about the importance of the first line in a novel, but how about the first scene for memoir? Join @brookerandel and I on the QWERTY podcast as we discuss. 

#writingcommunity #memoirauthor #memoirwriting #writingmemoir #booktok
Join Julie Kabat and I on the podcast as we discus Join Julie Kabat and I on the podcast as we discuss how to write memoir using letters from family. Available now on all major podcast platforms. 

#writingcommunity #memoirauthor #memoirwriting #writingmemoir #booktok #memoir
So much of life speaks to us. Listen. Here, in the So much of life speaks to us. Listen. Here, in the outlines of a lost building, there is so much metaphor. Consider what you see. Believe in it. And write.
@amywlsn and I discuss how to write a memoir that @amywlsn and I discuss how to write a memoir that answers big life questions in the latest episode of QWERTY. Link in my bio to listen now on all major podcast platforms. 

#writingcommunity #memoirwriting #writingmemoir #booktok #memoircoach #memoirauthor
Join author Anita Felicelli and I as we discuss wr Join author Anita Felicelli and I as we discuss writing in an epistolary format in the QWERTY podcast. Available to listen now on all major podcast platforms. 

#writingcommunity #memoirauthor #memoircoach #memoirauthor #memoir

Copyright © 2025 Marion Roach · contact