“When I was satisfied with where I was in the river, I bent over with the mouth of the urn barely in the water.  The clear fluid trickled into, and out of the urn, taking my baby with it. My daughter’s ashes appeared to fly on the tail end of the soft breeze for a moment, settled on the current, and flowed downstream toward the confluence. From there, she would be as free as the water. I waded back to the dock, climbed upon it, and sat the urn down carefully.

            “You need to get warm,” said Adrianna. She got to her feet and came toward me with a blanket she brought from the cabin. I rushed past her to the other side of the dock that stood over one of the river’s many pools, and dived in. My body sliced through the water with the same agility as when I was fifteen. When I surfaced, I began to swim. One lap. Two laps. Three laps. I began to run out of steam by the eighth lap. Still, I wasn’t ready to give in to the pain growing in my chest as my lungs fought to keep up. I was screaming inside. I just wanted to swim and think of nothing except my body in the water.”