The Cremains of the Day

In a small oaken display case sitting in the hallway near my bedroom is a #shrine of sorts. It's not absurdly #morbid or over-#sentimentalized, but it does contain the cremains of all the pets I've cared for during my #marriage. If I continue to live on, there will eventually be eight more containers to add to the ones already there. The containers all are unique in that some are bedecked with favorite toys, leashes, and collars, and others have a winter coat or sympathy cards lying alongside. The cremains themselves are in separate receptacles, some plastic, others metal. Most are small since they house the ashes of cats and #schnauzers, small creatures that take up little space in the real world and even less space in the in #memoriam world. The #crypts give me some comfort, but nothing really takes the place of a kiss on a wet nose or a #vigorous shake of water from a terrier just out of the tub. One worry I have is not outliving my pets. In that case, we really don't have a friend or relative to dispose of the cremains in a loving way. Yes, we have wills, but even the most current one does not address that scenario. The woman I named as caretaker travels a great deal, and I wouldn't want her #responsible for my live or dead pets.So we've goofed that part of the will. As an alternate solution, we could leave the pets to a local #adoption agency with enough monies to give them an incentive to either find a great home for the pets or to care for them in a kennel-like setting. Finding homes for my living and beloved pet is a hard issue to address and we're working to solve the problem, but another related issue exists: What do I do with all the containers of ashes? It makes sense to dispose of them before I die so I have complete control, but the actual release of the cremains gives me the willies. It also opens the door to many other questions: How do I actually open them? Where should I dispose of them? Is there some local #ordinance that prohibits their disposal in a pond, lake, stream or public land such as a park? Is there some eco-friendly recommendation I should follow? Should I do this covertly in the dead of night? In that case my husband and I would then have to get dressed, load all the #cremain containers into our SUV and then drive to an already selected venue, at which time we would scatter the remains. Never having done this before, I am at a loss as to where to dispose of the ashes and bone fragments. In the movies you always see people disposing of human remains near the beach or from a boat. But what if you don't have convenient access to water? What then should you do? Get a shovel and pour the remains into a hole near a lovely evergreen or flowering bush? Trek to a cemetery and sprinkle the ashes over #headstones and other plaques? Hire a helicopter and execute the plan from 7,000 feet? There's a million possibilities, some humorous, others #grotesque. The problem is that despite their changed form, my pets are sacred to me, and I can't really imagine parting with them. As you can see, I'm really stumped as to what to do with the ashes already in my #possession, much less others that are destined to come down the pike before I leave this world. Since my #husband and I have chosen to be cremated, an ideal solution would be to co-mingle the ashes with our own, but I'm not sure if this is legal or that I could trust a funeral director to carry out such a complex task. The last funeral director I spoke to was not that nice. This has nothing to do with cremains, but my mother's funeral still leaves a #bitter taste. Since my sister had cleverly prepaid for a traditional burial--with all the trimmings such as a mid-range casket and escort to the cemetery--the director couldn't have cared less about the feelings of the bereaved. This particular director was in a hurry to move the service along and get the casket out and into the limo. She had allocated one hour, I believe, for our service, and any longer would intrude on time she had #allocated for another burial service. To put it bluntly, she had a casket jam. So when I approached her to ask if my mother's health aide could look at my mom before she closed the casket, she regarded me with annoyance and anger. Since it was a hot September morning in New Jersey, she fell back on a #mumbled statement of the body's exposure to the heat, etc. I guess she wanted me to reel in disgust with a mental image of my mother's face sliding down her neck and ending up onto the shroud which wrapped the bulk of her body. Well, common sense told me that delaying a casket's closure for five minutes was certainly not going to #decompose the body to any great extent. So I insisted that my health aide, who had arrived late to the service, be given the opportunity to pay her respects to my mom. The director and I "compromised," and she said that the health aide could take a look after they wheeled the #casket out and before it was rolled into the limo. Since my sister was in charge of this prepaid "circus," I knew I wouldn't be able to work out anything better. So we carried out the director's suggestion. Which only goes to show that #funeral directors not only get emotionally burned out or worn down by the constant stream of corporeal traffic flowing through their #mortuary, but also with dealing with the living in a rigid, formulaic way. They are well suited to their jobs except when a problem crops up, such as mine or a mix up in bodies, or, god forbid, a body that is still clinging to life. I haven't worked out a plan yet for what to do with the pet cremains, which actually pose a bigger problem than the human remains of my #husband and myself. With any luck at all, the pet cremains will be disposed of reverently and legally before their two human companions draw their last breath. If that happens, I really don't care what happens to our human cremains. Throw them out with the trash, bury them in the backyard under the rose bush, scatter them over the Grand Canyon in a helicopter. Any plan would work for me, as long as my spirit doesn't lag behind.