Well,

I just got back from picking up Trixie’s “cremains” (that’s what they call them, I guess) at the vet. I was very apprehensive about going, mostly because I thought I wouldn’t be able to get through it without bursting into tears. Nothing wrong with tears, but I have been so physically and mentally drained over the last week and a half. And once I start it takes a long time to stop. I tried to get my husband to go but he works across town and the clinic closes at 5 – he never would have made it in time and I wanted her back today.

So, off I go. The oncologist’s office is only about 10 minutes away from my house but I haven’t driven in that direction since Trixie’s last visit. The last time I was there, I left in tears and I didn’t want to do that again. I walked in and, thankfully, there were very few people around and things were very quiet. I tried to ask for Trixie’s ashes very quietly. I saw that there was a woman and one couple in the waiting room with some very concerned expressions on their faces. I remember how upsetting it was when someone came to pick up ashes while I was there waiting with Trixie. It sent my mind and emotions in undesirable directions and just made me want to hold onto her very tightly. I didn’t want to do the same thing to other people.

They brought out this really small black rectangular cube thing and that turned out to be the temporary urn. I don’t know what I expected, maybe a box or something like that. They also gave me a little certificate from the place she was cremated. I was a little worried because they just called today to have me pick up her ashes. I thought that maybe he body had been just lying around somewhere for more than a week and didn’t like the thought of that. Her cremation date turned out to be the date I thought though. January 9th.

I left the office and did so very calmly and with only a slight watering of the eyes. After the way I left last time, I needed to go back there again and face the place with courage and calm. I think I did that.

So, one last time, I brought my baby home from the doctor’s, down the same road we always took and with me holding onto her carrier to steady it – different carrier, same baby. Now she’s sitting in her usual place, by the window in my office. And, oh hell, here I am in tears again.


Thanks for listening,

Kai