To Dust Go Us

I see a story. A woman scatters the ashes of her husband. She curse his memory while grinding his ashes into the ground with the soles of her feet.

What will be my memory when it is my turn to leave the Earth? What will they say should they visit my grave?

I look to the sky and declare my love to you, to God, the lover and creator of my soul.

Have mercy upon us, Oh G_d. We have sinned. We have grown lazy in seeking you. Our hearts have been hardened and our memory is ground into the Earth with rebuke.