Back during the days when there were local undertakers, multitudes of coffins were made at home. I wanted to build my Mother's a homemade coffin when I knew Mom was about to depart the terrestrial realm of this Earth.

The coffin was wild cherry, lined with soft cotton, lace, and the local funeral parlor let me have a small satin baby pillow. The beautiful wood coffin was constructed from the same-same cheery tree that I built the computer  table with.

The elegant coffin was a very simple design. The side boards were the white wood from the tulip poplar tree. The cheery top coffin boards were glued in my woodshop. The lid had a white 5- star symbol on it. The sideboards of the burial box that contained my deceased Mother's corpse was the era's Civil War shape.

The bent-kerf  sideboards had four brass handles. The corpse of my Mother fit perfectly. I would have weeped like a baby if I measured Mom incorrectly.

I'm glad Mom's petite feet didn't hang out of the little coffin. Mom was weighing-in somewhere under ninety pounds when she sighed her last sweet breath.

My jolly hearted Dad knew enormous pain. His West point brother was killed at Andrews Field Air Force Base on Thanksgiving Day (1948). I was one month years old. I was there to greet Uncle Bernard with the rest of the James Family. I can't recall the memory. I was one month old. My Father embraced me.

Two weeks later Dad Mother died on a snow slick road. The car that was transporting my Grandmother and Grandpa (Bebop was a nickname) to West Point to gather-up belongings hit a tree. My Dad's Mom bled from an arterial blood flow.

Grandma died in Grandpa's arms.

My Mother, Frances, died in 2002.

I used interior lace and cotton fabric.

I have photos of the coffin, not shown.

Mother's frail hands were folded gently. 

Mother loved violets, rosebuds, and beauty.

Mother spoke of beauty has if to Bless a Earth.

Mother thanked and blessed Nature from a heart.

Mother realized Nature is the source of Everything.

Nature is the source from where all Life keeps flowing.

`

I gently nailed nailed the top, the beautiful wild cherry wood, with delicate cheery molding trim. Also, on the lid that displayed the white pointed poplar wood star, I sighed.

The star symbolizes an ancient belief. When sad loss and loneliness was very painful, the spectator of nature would gaze into the heavenliness of realms looking outward yearning to experience special and wonderful, the precious sense of:`

The great kindredness  

Thee external symbols

The eternal symbolism

This is Love Memories 

There is a mysterious force that is invisible in form and can comfort, transform, and 'touch'

It touches at sad times

This force is everywhere

Mother was so very petite 

Nature. Nothing that happens according to beautiful nature is small when contributing back to heath.

Wholeness. Health. Heart.

Everything integrates back.

Mother transcends smallness. 

Mother participated in this Life.

Humans can integrate and contribute back into the greater whole wide world. People can affirm Life and know who and why/what they are about. People can participate now, gracefully. Folks can die very peacefully, and eloquently, and display beautiful smiles.

Mother and Father passed from this world of space and time as flowers that appeared briefly. I see other people who touch me/you and exemplify with gracious knowing how we ought to Live.

Supreme good. That is the aim. 'Hamartia' is an old word that simply means:`

It means to aim.

People can 'pass away' with a inner glow that is manifest as a beautiful, and brilliant facial radiance.

Mom said many things.

Word. I'll remain quiet. 

Just before She died Mom smiled and said to me these simple words. "I have given my last speech. I know you have loved your mother and your father. Please forgive yourself for wandering off for many years after that damn war. War hurt us all."

I imagined that the angelic world opened to Mother and She, in gracious Spirit, was carried away without words. We can Live and be alive within. People can be certain with private realizations, and complete this grand Earth adventure without fear.

The fact is, one man will bury his mother and someone will bury that man/woman in a sort amount of time. The earth is a sacred burial  place and we should/can all care and love for we are here a very brief moment in precious time.

I miss people who have become apart of me. People assimilate and exchange their virtues. Virtues are the inner rich talent and treasures. A writer here reminded me:`

Life pervades everything.

Maybe poetically speaking:`

We all have private sadness

Moments of emotions enrich

Mother loved autumn seasons

at the moment the leaf say bye 

see Ya wild cherry tree in Spring! 

Nature and Love pervade all Life! 

Small acts of Love. A cherry coffin.

A quiet eulogy. Whispering a word.

I gently placed my parents in the grave.

Today. I may just walk to watch leaves.

Rest in Peace. Thanks for inspirations.