Coping With The Ashes Options

[KayMarie]

I made my first post a few weeks ago when I lost my dog of 16 years (AKA, my whole life). Zizi died while I was away and I worked myself into a rut over it, at first. I've been steadily improving, keeping busy, but still coming to the message board, if not replying, just reading.

But since my dog's ashes came back, I've had a really bad time. I don't know if anyone else has had this problem, but my mother didn't want me to come home and see the little urn just sitting on the kitchen counter, so she put them in her closet and told me that whenever I was ready, I could take them out and she would put the ashes in the urn we had made for him.

Only I haven't been able to do it. I cleaned a spot in my room for him, next to my dresser, where he slept when he wasn't sleeping on my bed. I ordered a little keepsake chest to keep his things in like his AKC certificates, pictures, and tags. I have everything ready... but I can't take the ashes out of the closet.

I'll go in, look at the little box, then start crying. I get so upset, I can't even move. I'll sit with it there in my hands, but I can never bring myself to walk out of the closet holding that little thing and I keep thinking "He can't fit in this." I realize that's a little crazy, but I can't seem to stop myself. It distresses me so much.

My mom keeps telling me to take my time, but I feel bad about leaving him in there. It feels like I'm ignoring what's there, even though I still think about him every day.

[Miss Mew]

Dear Kay Marie,
I am a novice at this post and never had any of my departed pet's remains cremated. It was a week ago today that I lost my 21 year old feline companion. I chose to keep some of her fur with the thought of putting it into a locket.
When my husband and I first moved to Grand Lake, Quebec 15 years ago we had a wonderful Vet who sadly passed away shortly after we had met him. His practice was attached to his private residence, and a few weeks after his death, his wife asked me to drop by for coffee. After our coffee and a chat, she told me she had something to share with me. On the top shelf of the closet of their bedroom she had created a beautful shrine-there was the urn with her husband's ashes and various personal momentos. With a smile on her face she told me how comforting it was for her to have brought him home where she could talk to him whenever she chose. Perhaps she too could not face the prospect of seeing the urn constantly on display.
I don't know if this helps but I felt that I should share her story.
I am sorry for your loss,
Nicole