I'm due to pick up Charlie's ashes tomorrow from the vets and I'm dreading it.I want to bring him home,but as the Charlie i knew not some ashes in a pot.
In my mind I was thinking that when the vet calls I'd be picking Charlie up all healthy his tail wagging and we'd be back to normal.
It seems to be the final act of losing him,it's a tough one.I plan to plant a small tree and sprinkle some of his ashes with it,the rest I'll probably scatter around his favourite field.
I miss him terribly.
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Dear Greg,

I found comfort in the following quotes. One from famed Astronomer Carl Sagan and one from the legendary singer Joni Mitchell. 

"We are made of star stuff."

Carl Sagan

"We are stardust
Billion year old carbon
We are golden"

Joni Mitchell

Human beings, like all life on our planet Earth (including our beloved pets) are made up of carbon. Stars are also made up of carbon. And when stars explode, that carbon is spread throughout the Universe. So we (like our pets) are made up of 4 BILLION year old carbon. When we return to dust, we are returning in fact to stardust. So your pets ashes are stardust. 

It helps me to look at ashes as being holy and sacred. Cremation goes back thousands of years in our history as you may know. The process is very ancient.

When I picked-up my cats Marmalade's ashes 3 weeks after he departed, I wasn't expecting to feel anything. I was still in shock and numb. I walked to the Animal Hospital where the ashes were and just wanted to get it over with. They handed me a small white bag with a little cedar chest containing the ashes of my boy. I walked out as soon as I could. I wasn't emotional. I was calm, lucid and focused.

It was a sunny, cool, breezy day and I headed back to the warehouse where Marmalade and I had resided. And all of the sudden, as I held the bag to my chest, I felt a distinct energy against and then in my chest as I walked. There was a warmth. A presence. It was the feeling of love. The hairs on the back of my neck and arms rose up on end. And a slight smile (almost reluctantly) crossed my face. By the time I got home, the feeling was so, so strong, I thought I was going to be lifted right off of my feet. As if I was going to levitate. Then I sat down next to the favorite perch of my boy on our couch and looked at photos of him and watched cherished videos. And I wept and wept. But it wasn't sadness, it was a sense of joy and relief. My Marmalade was back with me and I could feel him again.

It appears "signs" from our lost loved ones are often subtle, different and very random. And they are also very easy to overlook. As they arrive in different forms, which is evidenced by the posts and comments here on this forum.

I am relieved that my beloved's ashes are with me. They are on display on my nightstand. I say goodmorning to him each day, I say hello to him when I return from my office and I say goodnight to him before I go to sleep each evening. And I pray that he knows how much I still love and miss him and how sorry I am for what I felt I had to do in the end by putting him to sleep forever more.

Whatever you decide to do, I am sure you will do so with reverence and deep love. May God continue to bless you and keep you and yours.

Kind regards,
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Dear James,

Thankyou for your kind words.I hope I experience the same feelings as you when I pick up Charlie.
Again thank you for sharing,it has indeed helped my outlook on the situation.
Kind regards,Greg
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