The Ashes
Your ashes are sitting in a temporary closet inside a box, inside the handmade urn that was bought on Etsy. I wasn’t in charge of the ashes. In fact, the first time that they were brought into the house, before they’d been split up, I thought I was going to throw up. The thought that you were now encased in a plastic bag in a plastic box in my living room brought me to my knees.
After that day when you were brought in without notice, your dad split them up. We had you split into 3. Me, dad and Peter. We each got 1/3. In life you were always split in 2. You and Peter. Back and forth. Holidays split in 1/2. Thinking back on that and now the fact that you had to be split in pieces for us after death makes me so very sad and so very sorry. And when the urns were ordered, 2 additional urns (keepsake specific) were ordered for the grandparents. I couldn’t bear to leave that keepsake size behind, so it’s also in the closet. I couldn’t let go more of you than I had to. You are now split into 5, and the thought of that makes my breathe quicken with the anxiety that you will never be whole or here again.
I don’t see myself ever putting that decorative urn out on a shelf. I see that until I’m ready to spread my portion of your ashes, you will be in that closet. I don’t want a reminder of the finality. I don’t want a reminder that you’re not here. It’s hard enough to see your image. I can’t bear to look at your ashes. I also don’t know when I’ll ever be ready to let them go. And where is the place special enough to let you go in the wind back to the earth? Will there ever be a place special enough for that? At this moment, 5 months exactly since you’ve been gone, it doesn’t feel like any place will ever be special enough.
This was Tommy’s senior yearbook dedication page. He chose it all - the quote and the photos. At first, I was unsure about that quote, but looking back, I’m so glad that I let Tommy make all of the choices. It was definitely him.
