The Ginger Jar
Nyel and I have waited for more than a year to transport him to his final resting place. Not that we are in a hurry, you understand. He has been waiting patiently since I brought him home in the Ginger Jar more than a year ago. I’m quite sure he is content. My father and, eighteen years later, my mother, also waited in that Ginger Jar until the time was right.
For Nyel, the time will be right in the next few weeks when Charlie and Marta will be here for ten days. Then we can go together to place Nyel in front of our stone — a stone he never saw but helped plan, right down to the size of the lettering. He also knew exactly where in the Espy Lot it would go and where he and I would spend eternity together.
Gravestone
The burial (or probably properly, the internment of the ashes) for us has a bit of a ritual. Charlie and Marta will go up to the cemetery that morning and dig the appropriate size rectangular hole. Then in the afternoon, we will take the Ginger Jar up to the Espy Plot, take turns putting handfuls of Nyel’s ashes in the hole, perhaps saying a few words as we do so.
Last, we’ll cover the ashes with mounds of flowers — traditionally Dorothy Perkins — and, in a day or two, we’ll replace the sod that was removed to make a nest for Nyel. This time, though… we may have to find a suitable substitute for the Dorothy Perkins. And that’s what I had to speak to her about this morning.
Dorothy Perkins in bud
Her buds aren’t even as big as petite peas. She is just lollygagging all over our west fence, not a pink patch of petals in sight. What the heck? I looked back at some photos of past years and by mid June, Dorothy was always struttin’ her stuff. But not this year…
“You have a week or ten days,” I told her. I hope she was paying attention but it’s hard to tell sometimes with Dorothy Perkins!
Dorothy Perkins in Ten Days?
In the late 1970s when the village movers and shakers were drawing up the bylaws of the Oysterville Restoration Foundation, they determined that the Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend would be the best day for holding their annual meeting. It was the one weekend of the year that “most people would be in town.” You could count on it!
So, the ORF annual meetings were well attended. Often they were followed by a picnic lunch where there was the lively chatter of catching up with old friends – schoolmates, perhaps, of long ago. Or the neighbors’ visiting relatives that only knew one another from summer vacations. Or even from Memorial Day gatherings back in the years when we still called May 30th “Decoration Day.”
When the Oysterville Water company was formed in the 1990s they, too, chose that Memorial Day Saturday for their annual meetings. Ditto all the above except that our numbers now included people from the ridge (Douglas Drive) – neighbors but not property owners in the Historic District and, therefore, not members of ORF. Traditionally, OW meets in the church at 9:00 and ORF at 10:00. The first meeting is usually fairly well attended but numbers dwindle after its adjournment.