I know this blog is meant to be a place to post updates on the pregnancy, our house, etc. I have been chastised by my lovely husband in the past for waxing poetic on politics and since then, I have tried to keep this blog focused on the family. Today, I just have to meander off the beaten path for a moment.

Joel and I have talked several times about our wishes after we die. Joel is a traditionalist with a firm belief in being buried in a Jewish cemetery with family members that have passed on before. I, as you probably can guess by now, tend to deviate from the norm wherever and whenever possible. Early on in our relationship, I told Joel that I didn't want to be buried in a cemetery. I want my ashes to be spread somewhere warm and sunny, with ocean breezes and the taste of salt air. See, despite my astrological fire sign, I'm a water person. I could never live in a landlocked state. I love the feel of the salt water on my feet. I want my friends and family to be able to "visit" me in the place where I truly feel at home. My only real cemetery experience has been where my grandparents are buried. A Jewish cemetery in New Jersey over looking the interstate. It doesn't speak to how my grandparents lived their lives, in my mind. My grandfather should have his ashes spread around his favorite places in New Jersey. The deli, the stationary store, the shore, Atlantic City.

I have mentioned my mentor, Leroy Sievers before on this blog. He passed away in August and since then, his wife Laurie has kept up with the cancer commentary on NPR.com. Her entry today discusses the spreading of ashes and I thought it was beautiful and poignant. Perhaps its just proof that I'm not as crazy as I think I am.

In Maui, Signs From Leroy
Leroy and I have talked many times about how special Maui is in our lives. This trip is no different.
Except this time, without him at my side, the signs of Leroy made it all the more special.
I know not everyone believes in those "signs", and I can understand that, but let me tell you, when you walk and talk with his Maui friends, who are so spiritual and mystical in their beliefs, it's hard not to believe.
There was the sunset Tuesday night. More brilliant and stunning than any other night. That afternoon, we had scattered Leroy's ashes. That night, it looked like the Maui sky welcomed him with a color-splashed banner of oranges and golds.
The next morning, the celebration continued with a vivid rainbow over the ocean. A rainbow with a beginning and an end.
Sea glass is plentiful here in Maui. The Pacific gives back her glass with softened edges and newly formed shapes. There on the sand, waiting for me, was an amber, heart-shaped piece of glass. Thank you, Leroy.
And the "Leroy" sign that really caught my breath? Driving back to the hotel, I glanced in the rear view mirror, and there it was.
You guessed it ... an orange Jeep.
That secret wave means so much more now