Is this baggie my sandwich or Grandma?

Did I mention I was in Ireland? So back to that. Captain and I did a whirlwind tour of the country along with a million other tourists. You think you’ve got a look-out spot to yourself, but all it takes is one stopped car at a look-out spot and every tourist on the road will pull in behind you. Good luck trying to go to the bathroom on the side of the road.

Captain and I were gazing out at the ocean, green pastures and spray-painted sheep. That’s how they identify them. It was serene. The sun was shining and the wind was blowing in my face. This is not just for descriptive detail. This will be important later.

A car pulls in behind us. Loud voices emerge. I’d say they’re American, but Canada is welcome to claim them if they’d like. Let me know.

The middle-aged couple comes up to the overlook. They gaze around. The guy declares to his wife,

“We can dump some ashes here.”

“Here?”

“Well we have two baggies.”

“I guess we might as well.”

People put other peoples ashes in Ziploc baggies. It’s a thing.

I stand facing out toward the gorgeous view, the wind blowing in my face. You see where I am going with this? If they dump a baggie of ashes here it’s going to blow into the parking lot. Maybe that person always dreamed of being dumped in a parking lot, but I doubt it.

The guy gets to the edge of the wall with the baggie. He thinks for moment. It dawns on him. He tells his wife,

“If I dump the ashes, they’re going to blow back this way.”

A solution occurs to him. He bends as far over the wall as he can and dumps the ashes. So whoever that was, did not float away on the breeze out to the ocean. Their ashes settled into the crevices of the rock wall by the parking lot. But that’s only half of that person, so there’s still hope.

Not a bad wall if your ashes are going to be in a wall.

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