Peace, Love and Grief… A Little Compassion Goes a Long Way

If you read my blog a few weeks ago, you may remember me mentioning that one of our cats had died. This weekend, we went to pick up her ashes, and I have to say, they did a beautiful job memorializing her life for us.

First, the package was wrapped up in a beautiful purple tulle bag. Inside was a lovely box which opened like a book. Inside the box, was information about grieving a pet and grief support, an imprint of her paw, cards with her paw and nose prints, and her ashes. We were all so touched by the amount of compassion and empathy that went into this whole process.

For me, though, the minute I saw the package, I was immediately taken back to the day when I picked up Bruce’s ashes… I’m not trying to be rude, but that experience was quite the opposite of this experience…

The funeral home had originally told us it would take about a week to do the cremation and get the ashes back. However, it ended up being more like 2.5 weeks. By this point, all my family had left. Each person had tried to stay for as long as they could, but they had jobs, families and lives to return to… We couldn’t sit around staring at each other and crying forever. While I hated to see them leave, I understood.

My sister was the last one to go… I remember when she left, we both cried. She told me she would come back in a few weeks, (which she did). She was also quite adamant that I should get someone to go with me when Bruce’s ashes were ready for me to pick up… I was not to go alone.

However, when the funeral home finally called, a day or two later, there was no one to go with me, and I just wanted – no, I needed – to get them. I couldn’t wait any longer. I can’t explain it, but I was too anxious to wait another day. Bruce needed to come home. So, I went… alone.

Because I was still very numb and raw, (still in shock, I believe), I had not driven up to this point. However, the funeral home was only a few blocks away, so I didn’t give it a second thought… I just went.

Now, I can’t tell you the business role of the woman who met me when I arrived. However, I can say her people skills were quite lacking. Here I was in her office – a brand new widow, eyes swollen from weeks of tears – picking up my late husband’s ashes. Yet, she was completely oblivious… All she could do was complain about her health.

Don’t get me wrong, normally I would be empathetic about another person’s health issues, but in this situation and at this time, it was not my job to nurture her… No, I’m sorry, but in this moment, it was her job to nurture me. I don’t mean for that to sound self, but shouldn’t that be basic customer service in a funeral home? Was I expecting too much?

Frustrated as I was, I didn’t say anything… I just stared at her as she ranted on and on. Finally, she asked me for Bruce’s name. Then, she reached into a cabinet and held out three small containers to me.

“Here you go,” she said.
“Those aren’t Bruce’s,” I replied.
“Yes, they are,” she argued.

For the next few minutes, we went back and forth – me trying to explain that his remains should be in one container with a sunset on it, not three small Asian style containers. On the other hand, she kept trying to convince me that “in my grief,” I probably couldn’t remember what I had ordered. It was absolutely infuriating.

Finally, she went to the desk to look up the records. When she turned back to me, it was obvious she wasn’t happy about what she found. There was no apology, though, as she returned to the cabinet and found Bruce’s ashes. All she said as she handed the container to me was, “They both came in today.”

But that wasn’t the worse part…

As I watched in disbelief, she pulled out a plastic bag, like the kind you get at the grocery store. The bag was white and emblazoned in red on one side was the name, address and phone number of the funeral home… It was nothing more than a huge ad for the business! And while I watched in horror, she dropped the container unceremoniously into this bag. Then, she handed the bag to me, and returned to her desk without another word…

I was so incredibly floored! How do you even respond to that? I mean, it’s not like I had ever done this before… maybe this was normal? Maybe my expectations were too high?

So, I just walked out the door and to my car. Once inside my car, I fell apart…

Here I was – holding what remained of my husband… The same man, who just a few weeks before had held me in his arms. How could this small container hold what remained of Bruce? It weighed no more than a bag of flour! How could this be him? He had been six feet tall… He had been a muscular man… a weightlifter. He had been a vibrant man – full of life… and love. Surely, there was something wrong… This could not be him!

But, it was… This was my Bruce. I held him in my lap, tears streaming down my face, as I drove home.

Once I got home, I placed his ashes on the dresser and lit candles all around it… Still in shock… Still in unbelief… And for the next 24 hours, I sat vigil with his ashes… I talked to him, I cried for him, and I prayed for both of us… How was I going to do this? How was I going to keep going without him? So many questions… so much anxiety… so much grief… and no answers.

However, life doesn’t stop. So, a few months later, on his birthday, our families gathered one more time to say our goodbyes and scatter his ashes in the ocean. While it was sad and my heart was torn apart, it was a beautiful memorial… Everything about it “felt like Bruce.”

Time has passed, and through the years, I haven’t put too much thought into that day at the funeral home… until today, when we picked up Duffy’s ashes. The contrast of how they treated Duffy’s remains and us, as her family, when compared to that day in the funeral home is like night is to day. I truly expected something like what I had experienced before – a lack of compassion and understanding for what we were feeling – just a business transaction – nothing more.

However, that was not our experience this time. This weekend’s experience was beautiful… It felt kind… It felt compassionate, and it offered a step toward healing and closure.

As we left, we were so thankful for the fact that stranger was able to understand the grief of losing a pet. I just wish, that lady years ago could have understood the same… I wish she could have known how far a little bit of kindness can go, to help someone who is hurting so deeply…

I don’t know if any of this rings a bell for anyone. I truly hope no one else has had a similar experience. If you have, I am so very sorry. Either way, even the experience of finding a funeral home and handling the remains and the funeral or memorial can be hard. At least, I know it felt overwhelming for me… Did you do it on your own, or did you have someone to guide you through it? Would you be willing to share your story with us, please? This path can be a hard and lonely one, but none of us needs to do it alone. We are all here for each other. We all have stories to share. Because this is our community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

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