many rivers to cross

Earlier this week I drove home, 45 miles away, to attend the ceremony committing the ashes of a friend's mother to her final resting place.  It was good to see my friend, and laugh with her about her mother and our shared stories and remembrances.  Such an important part of growing. Learning to say goodbye and let go.

The Platte River flows across the entire state of Nebraska, and I have mostly lived somewhere near to it.
I have lived my life crossing back and forth across it.  Going home. Coming back to my current home. Visiting parents. Visiting grandparents.  They call the Platte "the braided river" because it has so many channels, and they weave back and forth across each other, creating little islands all along the way.

I stopped on one of my crossings that morning, and took a few photos.  It was 15 degrees Fahrenheit outside. Very cold. Sunny. Beautiful.  The river is always beautiful.  I love the Platte River.  This is where, someday, I want my ashes tossed.  Not ceremonially, but FLUNG! Joyfully! Into the wind. Into the water.
So that my spirit can flow with the water, and fly with the wind. In the place that I love and consider home.