LAKE STEVENS — Jake Graham’s mother passed away in 2010. Fifteen years later, someone unknown in Lake Stevens discovered her.
What’s up with that?
When Anissa Tibbits leased a house in Lake Stevens, she anticipated the typical items left behind during a move: perhaps a paint can in the garage or old gardening equipment. However, she discovered a container holding cremated remains instead.
The Neptune Society provided a name: Poppy Graham.
Anissa attempted to locate her relatives. Without success. Therefore, just after midnight on July 15, she turned to Facebook:
This is going to be a strange post, but I’ve exhausted all possibilities,” she wrote. “For some reason—seriously, I’m not entirely sure, please don’t question it—a box containing human ashes was left in the garage by someone who previously lived here. She has no connection to the former tenants, so they didn’t want to take her. I would like to return her to her family.
She imposed one requirement on anyone who stepped forward to take possession of Poppy.
The only thing I’m asking is for you to let me know the date she died or her birthday, as it’s on the box. I don’t want her to go home with some strange person.
Bring out the enchantment of social media with a touch of sleeplessness.
At 3 a.m., Heather Callan, a resident of Everett, was browsing Facebook when a post appeared. Although she didn’t know Anissa or Poppy, she felt a strong urge to offer assistance.
“I chose to investigate further,” Heather remarked.
She quickly reached out to Jake Graham.
Poppy Graham’s mother had been absent for almost half of his life. She passed away in Renton on November 4, 2010, when she was 46 years old. He was 17 at the time.
“She was a caring and affectionate mother. She fought bravely until her final days,” Jake mentioned.
Following Poppy’s passing, Jake, the youngest in the family, resided with an older sibling in Snohomish. Eventually, she relocated out of state. Now 32, Jake has established a life in Puyallup, where he works as a countertop restoration specialist and is raising his own family.
I repeatedly asked my sister where our mom’s ashes were,” Jake said. “She assured me that our mom was safe and told me not to be concerned.
After that, there was a Facebook post.
Jake was awakened by five text messages containing screenshots from friends who had seen the post, along with a message from Heather Callan.
“Picture waking up and discovering that,” Jake said.
He hurried to Lake Stevens to reach Anissa’s house.
It turned out that his sister had previously kept a pile of boxes at the house, which was then occupied by a friend. When Anissa moved in, only a few boxes were left. Most of the memorabilia had already been removed — but Poppy was still present.
“The former occupants provided me with a vague account of how she arrived, and essentially left it up to me to determine what action to take,” Anissa mentioned.
She wasn’t going to spread someone’s loved one’s ashes without making an effort to locate the family. As the busy owner of Lavender Beauty Studio in Snohomish, she established a deadline. If no one came forward by the end of summer, she would take the ashes to Mount Rainier.
It’s a lovely spot for a final resting place,” she remarked. “And it would make it simple for her family to visit if they contacted me after I had already spread her ashes.
Rather, due to Facebook, Poppy was able to return home.
For many years, I have searched high and low for my mother,” Jake later wrote. “Today, I am pleased to announce that she is back home with me and the grandchildren.
The comments poured in:
Welcome back, Poppy. To Poppy’s family and friends — the greatest reunion ever.
Anissa, thanks are nowhere near sufficient.
My heart missed a beat. Tears slowly flowed down my face. This was the most incredibly considerate post I’ve ever encountered.
You brought that momma back to her son. You are a blessing!
For Anissa, the meeting provided a sense of completion.
I knew I wouldn’t feel at ease until she was where she was meant to be,” she stated. “Family is everything to me. The thought of someone being separated from their family, even after passing away, just didn’t feel right. My family refers to my great-grandfather as ‘Poppy,’ so this really struck a personal chord.
For Jake, it was a sense of comfort.
It’s as if my mom has finally come home and is here with her son, daughter-in-law, and some of her nine grandchildren,” he said. “As of now, our mom is staying with me until we can afford to buy souvenirs for the grandkids and until we can all gather together and discuss the rest.
When Heather alerted me to this tale, I experienced an instant bond.
My mother-in-law’s remains are stored in my garage.
Mary Reno Brown, the mother of my husband, passed away in the year 2000, just a few months before we moved out of Indiana. As there was no family grave or remaining relatives there, she came with us. Initially to Colorado, and later to Washington.
In Colorado, “Grandma Brown,” as our children called her, was hidden in the linen closet.
Five homes, two states, and 25 years on, she remains in the same container. Still waiting for my husband to choose her last location.
Our 100-year-old home in Everett lacks a linen closet. Therefore, Grandma Brown resides in the garage.
Cremated remains can be honored in numerous creative ways: planted alongside a tree, dispersed from a boat, embedded in a vinyl record, transformed into jewelry, used in tattoos, or sent into space.
I’m unsure where I’ll be when I pass away.
But with this pace, there could be two Grandma Browns in the garage.
Have a story for “What’s Up With That?” Message me atreporterbrown@gmail.com or 425-422-7598.
