Chapter 3
Booth was resigned but inconsolable. His only comfort was that he'd been able to keep his promise to her, and never leave her side. He wasn't the first to go. His faith assured him of their forever together, but did nothing to ease the loneliness right now. He went through the motions of life for the sake of his family, but they knew he was only pretending. His mind had gone on with her. He quit eating, having no taste for food. At first he only slept when exhaustion overcame his turbulent thoughts. But gradually, his dreams of Brennan soothed his anger over her needless loss.
A weaker man might have succumbed to the comfort of the bottle, anti-depressants or death, but Booth wasn't just anyone. He remembered what Pops had said about never getting over Grams' death. And yet his grandfather had lived another thirty five years after losing Margaret to cancer. Booth felt his Bones very close; in his heart. His mouth quirked up in a slight smile, hearing her insistence that such a thing was scientifically impossible. He assured her, inside his head, that yes, it was quite possible, and there she would stay until he was allowed to join her. "See, Bones, I told you life went on after death!" he chuckled silently, imagining her sputtering in return.
Remembering Brennan's amending her will from 312 pages to "only 306, Booth," the patriarch informed his brood of their mother and grandmother's unique final wishes to be scattered into a volcano. They were grateful she'd decided against the Tibetan sky burial, which sounded much more peaceful than it actually was when Booth described the details.
Brennan's continuing book royalties provided plenty of travel funds, and the entire family flew to Hawaii. Laughing over memories of their indomitable mother's wonderful individuality, Booth and his three children boarded a helicopter to scatter her ashes as Brennan had directed. Since she hadn't specified which volcano she wanted for her final resting place, Booth had chosen East Moloka'i. It includes the highest sea cliffs on earth, and the island has the United States' longest fringing reef. Brennan had supported numerous charities during her lifetime and Booth thought her generous spirit matched that of Father Damien who had helped care for lepers on the island. His choice was arbitrary, but he had no idea what her preferences might have been. She'd wanted an active volcano, but for safety during their landing, that seemed out of the question.
Booth had reserved a small portion of her ashes for eventual interment with him. He'd debated with himself about doing this, but finally decided she'd understand his need to have her close for eternity, and wondered wryly if she was still arguing with the Universe about the absurdity of believing in hereafter. The four of them, he and their children, each took a turn scattering their mother's remains into the crater to strains of 'Hot Blooded' from Parker's cell phone. And then they re-boarded the helicopter, flew back to Maui for a week of leisure with the grandchildren, Angela, Hodgins, Cam, and Daisy.
And upon their return, the year passed without her physical presence. Mother's Day, her birthday, the empty recliner across from his; were painful reminders. By the following Christmas, his favorite time of year, Booth was sleeping a bit better. He and the grandkids purchased the thickest tree they could fit through the door, set it up in the front window, and Parker brought down ornament cartons from the attic, each neatly labelled in her precise script. Surrounded by their family, Booth worked and watched and smiled as the tree was decorated amid squabbles about to where Gramma would want each decoration hung, and mugs of peppermint cocoa. On Christmas Eve, they opened holiday pajamas, just as she had done with Max and Russ and her mom. Angela and Hodgins, Daisy and Cam, Wendell and Clark, came on Christmas with their offspring. Brennan was sorely missed, but never gone from their midst, her fondly remembered protestations about 'the myths of the afterlife' notwithstanding. Comforted by his children, grandchildren, and unorthodox family, Booth felt a small measure of peace. The center still held.
Postscript A/N: I don't have an eidetic memory like Brennan. I think I borrowed the gluing Booth's skull back together from Ceeray3's Two Peas in a Bucket, but I don't have an index of story details in my head. Another writer used the 'Hot Blooded' song first when they scattered the ashes and had Booth holding some of his Bones ashes in a little box, but again, I can't recall which one. I'm hereby apologizing to any writer whose work I unwittingly used without proper citation. Please consider yourself thanked and alert me to what story I forgot so I can credit you properly. That way I can enjoy reading your story again too. :)
