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2002-06-27 @ 10:41 a.m.
there was this lady i know, whose father had just died, and had been creamated. she opened the urn, just to feel his ashes, just to touch him once more ... and she cut herself on a peice of bone. her finger bled, and she laughed.
i always thought when you were creamated you turned into dust. or sand, thin and fine. but i guess thats just a misconception. the ashes are jagged and rocky. and i think that is more fitting - if you want to compare it to reality. in life and in death we are all imperfect. we are all cutting.and for some odd reason i find comfort in that idea.
yesterday my dog died. and you know - yeah he was just a dog - but no. not at all. he was a definite part of this household, he was the mascot of our family. he was a part of it. and i could have felt stupid for crying all day, and consantly missing his face and how his ears felt, and the coldness of his nose, but i didn't. because i think if you lose anything wether it be a person, a animal, or a sweater, that means something to you - being upset is understandable.
i feel like i've lost a family member. there is not a room in the house, where i don't picture him, laying, eating, panting, wagging his tail and spinning in circles. and that only makes it worse.
last night i came in the door at 1:45 and immediatley a weight set on my shoulders. he wasn't there. he wasn't. and he won't be. the night before - he was and i layed with him for 10 minutes on the floor. i didn't know he was going to die,so it didn't feel like a goodbye. but when i think of it now, he wagged his tail the entire time. just wagged it. and rested his heavy head on my leg.
god i miss him. he should be here right now. sitting, or sprawled next to me as i type this. but hes gone. and it is too silent, and to hard to look over my shoulder, because i can't bare to see the spot that used to be filled with his life.
we had him creamated. and i wonder what we will do with the ashes. set them on the mantel? scatter them to the wind?
sit them at our feet.