April 26, 2021
The ashes came to my home in Maryland from Southern California, shipped via special delivery by the aptly named funeral home Ashes to Ashes. They arrived encased in a rectangular, polished, dark wood box about the size of a loaf of artisan bread. I immediately opened it to make sure it was not empty. It was not.
The child I loved, worried about and cried over for more than 54 years was physically reduced to a powdery dark gray substance. I was reminded of a fine black sand beach.
How could this be my Brady? But it was.
Brady had died three weeks earlier. Cancer killed him following a three-year struggle. In accordance with his request, he was cremated rather than buried, the customary bodily disposal route for Jews, even secular ones.