Loads of ashes and how not everyone is ok with that

One of the big advantages to having Pete cremated was that if anything happened to the significant pieces of jewellery, there would be more to fill the void.

Actually, lots more.

When I chose the holding vessels for the ashes I thought there could be spare space in them because I had chosen quite a few.

Instead - I have leftover Pete.

When I picked ‘him’ up after the kids had chosen their jewellery, his parents had received some, and he had been decanted into the containers we had chosen, there was still a fair bit left over.

These ‘extra’ ashes come in the generic crematorium plastic container and I had no idea what to do with them so they were in the linen press.

Now we have him home, Pete has taken his place on the mantelpiece. Every other day the kids acknowledge him, other people acknowledge him ... and more often than not, the kids get the box down and offer to visitors to hold so they look at the pictures more closely.

Some take up that offer, some decline ... mortified.

Those leftover ashes have now come in handy because one child lost their pendant with his ashes in it.

It was lost some months ago and after much searching and many many tears I just decided to deal with the problem in the same way I’ve dealt with most problems since Pete died - I threw money at it.

So having carefully stored the additional ashes after collecting them, I loaded them back into the car to have a new pendant filled.

But I just haven’t got them out of the car yet. So they have been in the boot of the car for about a week. And I have loadEd the shopping around them, the kids have thrown their school bags in around them.

The kids are totally ok with this.

“Oh, hang on, I’ll just move Daddy”

“Whoops, Daddy nearly fell out...”

But as I was buying a new bike for a child this week as an early Christmas present and in time for Bike Ed at school while trying not to mention WHY the bike store owner needed to show the new bike owner exactly how to do things because their Dad wasn’t around anymore, I hadn’t considered that loading the bike into the car meant I had to move Pete’s ashes.

And so the poor bike shop owner was helping me load the bike into the car and I had to say “oh sorry, this is actually my husband in here, it’s why he can’t be here to do the whole bike thing...” while grabbing a white paper bag with a cardboard box in it out of the way.

The bloke looked at me for a second. Then kind of giggled. Then said, “so it wasn’t a joke about him not being able to show him how to do the bike stuff?”

And I kind of shrugged, pulled the bag with the ashes container in it, out, and said “no - shittiest reason ever...”

Then he said “wow” and proceeded to give Sam even more information about the bike and insisted we return if we needed any help.

The the next day, because I am super unorganised, the seats were still down after the bike was removed, and the kids went to get in to go to school ... so they simply picked up the bag with the ashes in them saying, “We’ll just move Daddy,” and promptly put him back into the back of the car.

I’ll get him out as soon as I have a spare hand to carry him in while I’m also carting in the groceries.

In the meant time, he just gets to remain part of our everyday in the car.

And I probably need to remember that not everyone is as ok with the fact the ashes are actually Pete and people struggle with our easy acceptance of it, which some are as being flippant about it.