i saw him

when i was two years of age, my mother's brother died.  he was young and apparently overdosed on something, causing fluid in his lungs and other organ failure.  he left of his own accord and for his own reasons as far as i'm concerned.  he was cremated and i was with the group who took him to scatter his ashes at a waterfall in the cascade mountains.  my mother was standing next to me when the urn was opened and its contents released.  i did not understand the significance of death for the adults around me and i remember asking my mother where my uncle was, because everyone was talking about him and consequently saying his name.  she pointed in the direction of the ashes and said, "down there."  i climbed up the guardrail, peered down through the mist and i saw him sitting wrapped in a navajo blanket, looking up at me.  "Oh, I see him," i replied, "how did he get down there?"  there is where we left him.