Louise's ashes were finally ready, so I picked them up this evening after work. I did what I was really hoping I wouldn't do, which was start crying in front of the techs. I'm sure they're used to it, but it's embarrassing nonetheless. At what point do people start looking at you and thinking, "Get over it already! She was a pet, for crying out loud!"
Mercifully, at this vet, when your pet dies, they try and get you in and out as quickly as possible, not only for your own sake, but also to avoid a disturbance in the waiting room, so they're mailing the final bill to me, rather than making me stand at the reception desk, blubbering, and trying to find a credit card. That's thoughtful of them, I think.
So I get home (after a good cry in the car), and while the urn they gave me is a beautiful reddish wood, and sealed, I suddenly realized that I had no idea where to put it. I don't really want to put it on the mantle above the fireplace - I can just see a guest noticing it ("oh, what a lovely box, what's that for?" "Oh, that's my cat's ashes."), but I don't want to shove it in a closet either, as that seems disrespectful.
Once I move to a new place with a bit of a yard, and given current housing prices, who knows when that will be, I'll bury it properly and put some sort of marker over it, but until then, I need to find a place for it. I've no idea what to do.
And now I can put flowers on my dining room table, which should make me happy, but doesn't, because the only reason I can put them on the table instead of high up on top of the bookcase is because Louise isn't here to knock the vase over or munch on the flowers. Maybe I should just throw them out, even though they aren't dried up yet.
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