Journal · Bringing them home

The Vet Said His Ashes Were Ready. I Wasn’t.

Bringing him home in a small box made his death feel real in a new way.

My phone lit up today.

The messageHis ashes were ready.

I knew this message was coming.I had agreed to the cremation.I knew what would happen.Still, when I read the words…

My stomach dropped.

1. I suddenly didn’t want to pick him up

That surprised me.

I wanted him home.

Of course I did.

But some part of me had been surviving by not thinking too hard about where he was.

Now I had to go and bring him home.

Just not in the way he used to come home.

I carried it carefully.

His name was there.

And I kept thinking:

How can this be him?

This animal who filled the houseWho took up space on the bedWho needed food and walksWho needed medicine and attention

Now I could carry what remained in my hands.

That thought broke something open again.

I didn’t decide what to do with the ashesI didn’t scatter themI didn’t buy anything

I simply brought him home.

For today, that was enough.

His photograph is nearby.

And strangely,

having him home hurts.

But it also feels like one small part of the unfinished journey has returned.

I wish he had come home the old way.

But I’m glad he’s home.