My Grandmother had always loved lighthouses. The way they endured in the ground so elevated high into the sun-filled sky. During the day serving as an exquisite tourist attraction, while at night the great big golden yellow light shining to help lure the boats safely onto the shore. It’s not a wonder that when she passed away, she requested for us to spread her remnants at her most beloved Lighthouse at Tibbett’s Point.

On a cool, crisp early October day, all of my aunts, uncles, cousins, and other relatives, that I have at no time in my life ever met, were on our way up to Tibbett’s Point Lighthouse located in Cape Vincent, New York. At the time I was only ten years old, young enough to not fully understand about death, but nonetheless old enough to know that they are gone and onto a better life. Each person that was there was reserved to themselves, listening to the melody of the waves crashing on the shore, and to the seagulls cawing out as they flew straightforward through the air out over the water. People were embracing one another as small traces of silvery tears trickled down each of their sadden faces waiting for the funeral progression to take hold.

Once the progression started I hadn’t noticed how windy it really was. My Uncle was in charge of releasing all of the ashes from the box in which they were concealed. As he started releasing the remnants the huge gusts of wind blew the ashes away far out over the Island in every which direction. During this time my Grandpa’s relatives were singing different songs in the Native American language. It was an absolute admirable time, listening to them sing in a unique language, and watching a scene that looked like it belonged in the Disney movie “Pocahontas”. After the progression was over, I was given a bouquet of flowers to lay at the bottom of the Lighthouse. I will never forget the awful stench of the baby breath that was mixed in with the other flowers; it wasn’t soon afterwards that I figured out where the flower got its name came from.

Afterwards walking along the shoreline with my mom, sand in our shoes, collecting sea glass and different rocks I realized that my mom no longer had a Mother that she could talk to whenever, or walk along a beach and collect different rocks just for the fun of it. She no longer had the one person in our life that we sometimes take for granted and get mad at for the most unimportant matters. Before we were all about to leave, my Dad took us into the lighthouse to show us what it looked like on the inside. While on the inside you couldn’t go very far, glancing up you could see a spiral staircase that kept spiraling upwards never seeming to end. We weren’t able to go up to the top of the lighthouse since the stairwell was blocked off. But if we attained the privilege to do so and we got the opportunity to see out into the bright horizon, it would have made the day even more memorable.

Funeral’s can show us how precious life really is. Whether it’s out in a cemetery or out on Tibbett’s Point lighthouse, it display’s how family can come together from afar and bring everyone together. It show’s how even though something is sad and heartbreaking, it can still be one of the most beautiful memories that you possess. In the end the most important thing is that the people we sometimes take for granted, won’t always be there later on in life.