This piece was originally written by Karen Hendrickson and published in July 2025 as a blog post with Death & Dying Network International.
We have a sacred place. A cabin in the woods. Built by my Dad, Ernie. His legacy lives on there, just as he intended. A place for us all to come together. A place to love, to share, to remember. A sacred place. One that has come to mean so very much to all of us.
A place shared with only a few chosen and dear friends. The ones who are so important to you, you want them to be able to feel what you feel when we’re there. The ones who you know will absolutely “get it”. The ones who can appreciate all the love, the loss, and the healing that happens when we are there.
I did this recently. Shared this sacred place with my dear friends, Jo-Anne and Nicola. Little did we know how powerful our friendship, our love, and support of one another would be on this trip.
Jo-Anne brought the ashes of her beloved son Andy. I’ve walked with Jo for over 23 years of grief, shared memories, and love for this boy. So, when Jo asked me if she could scatter some of Andy’s ashes at the cabin, with my Dad, well, there was only ever one answer.
Of Course!
Nicola brought her love for us, her compassion, and her guidance as we gathered for this task. Nicola has been honouring my Dad, walking with him on the meadow, and talking to him at the Stone Circle for years now. She embraces all that Jo and I believe about dying, death, and loss, and even more importantly, about ritual and remembering. And so, it only made sense that she be with us; that she lead us in this, the uniting of Andy and my Dad, Ernie.
Jo picked the tree, and Nicola led us through the process of ritual and the scattering of ashes. We had no plan, only intention. Jo’s intention, to scatter Andy in a place he would love, and be loved by my Dad. A place he could climb trees, run through the forest, jump in the lake, and share lots of laughs and fun with my Dad. A place Jo has come to love as much as I do.
I was honoured that this is where she’d like him to be. With my Dad. I never realized the comfort I would feel in knowing my Dad is no longer alone there. I imagine my Dad laughing, playing, and teaching Andy, just as he did with my own son.
As Jo chose the spot, as we scattered, spoke words from the heart, and shared both together and alone, our thoughts and our prayers, it was more than magical. There were tears, but even more laughter – just as Andy would have it. There was love and there was healing. I believe I witnessed a different glimmer of peace within my dear friend that day. Within me. Within all of us.
What we fully experienced on this day was the power of friendship. What it means to have dear friends who hold us up and guide us, who share in our grief, our love, our survival, and our healing; who show us that our joy is really in who we share it all with - this life.
And then there is the importance of ritual – even if it’s 23 years later. It doesn’t matter when. The only timeline is “when you’re ready”. It doesn’t matter how or where. All that truly matters is that it holds deep meaning and value to you. And it does matter who you invite to join you. IF you choose anyone at all. In Jo’s case, it was her dear friends who hold a deep understanding and love in all of this.
On this day, we had no defined plan about how this ritual would go. What we did have was 3 dear friends willing to let our friendship, our hearts, and our love lead us; willing to trust that however it went, it would be just right for Jo ... for Andy ... for all of us together that day.
That day, we were forever changed by the power of friendship ... and the importance of ritual.
We went into the wild, to a cabin in the woods, a mom, a boy, dear friends, and Ernie. And it changed us.
__________
If you would like to experience this with us, you can watch the video here. (This video is shared with permission.)
I do not own any rights or copyright to the music used in this video.
Music by: