The last time I visited Big Ben I changed my Will

I changed my Will after my latest trip to London. It was one of my favorite places in the world, full of memories of a seven month trip to Europe in my early 20s with my best friend. Somehow, during our time in London, we would often end up standing in the middle of the Westminster Bridge at midnight gazing at Big Ben and Parliament. That place exemplified everything that felt cool at that time: our independence, all alone 5000 miles away from home with our new pal, Big Ben. Ancient yet new to us. 

New monuments that were now mine. They were familiar to me after going to admire them so often. Most of those times were late at night after a night out pub crawling or occasionally a West End show. Standing there in the center of the bridge was like being in the middle of the forest, as far as how quiet it was compared with the rest of Central London’s hustle and bustle. It was beautiful, dignified, peaceful, calm, important, and revered.  And maybe most of all, to me at that time, it represented independence and possibility.

It was my first extended time away from home. While I was there, I was just Sue, no family history. No one knew the schools I went to, what car I drove or the area I lived in. It was just me in that present moment. 

When I made up my Will just this past year, 35 years after those London days, I specified that I would like to be cremated with half of my ashes scattered by my kids in the Monterey Bay of the Pacific Ocean and the other half in London’s Thames river in front of Big Ben and Parliament. 

Recently, I was excited to revisit one of my final resting places. Sadly, as soon as I got there and walked to the middle of the bridge on a Wednesday afternoon, I realized I needed to find a new eternal resting place! Now it felt more like cheesy Pier 39 on San Francisco’s Fisherman‘s Wharf, than a stunning and revered place.  Furry hot pink rickshaws blasted hip hop music and beckoned people to take a ride. Buses stacked up in front of Big Ben for tourists to get a glimpse.  Vendors were selling London tchotchkes, Mr. Whippie Ice Cream, soft drinks, bangers, and who knows what else. 

People impatiently tried to pass each other through the crowds packed on both sides of the street, and the extra-wide sidewalks with bike lanes were no help at all. It was a bit sad to me, yet somehow, I felt fine with it. 

Everything in the world changes with time, I realize more and more the older I get. Things don’t say the same and that’s OK and that’s the way it should be. I wasn’t that 23 year old woman anymore, fun and optimistic as she was. I think I am still fun and optimistic but in a 57-year-old way! And I actually would not want to go back. That’s a good feeling to really know that.

Now at 57 I know that 10 years from now and then 20 years from now I will look back at my cute little 57-year-old self and think of how naïve I was! And I love that thought so much!

So, for now, my will has been changed to have ALL of my ashes released in Monterey Bay. Partly because I love it there and have spent many happy (and some sad) times there with my family and friends. Tons of my family of origin’s history has taken place there. But mainly because my kids will be the ones (hopefully!) going there to remember me, and my kids and I spent so many happy times together there that I believe it will be a natural place for them to remember me.

Note to my kids: if you do happen to stand on Westminster Bridge and gaze at Big Ben and Parliament someday when I’m long gone, think of your dear ol’ mom anyway! 🙂