Cremation Process

Tonight I felt compelled to do something so morbid I hate to admit it. Let me tell you first that next Wednesday, March 2nd should be Ryan's 25th birthday. Last night in a panic, I couldn't remember what day of the week he was born. I remembered all the other kids' days and couldn't remember his. Thank God for the internet. It allowed me to refresh my memory that he was born on Sunday.

Today I went to my sweet Nicole's stepmom's internment. She passed away on Saturday and was cremated and interned today. Tonight, I felt driven to look up more information about the cremation process. Somehow, I just needed to know more about the final process my son went through. Horrible! At least I felt that way to begin with. As I read I found a peace about the whole thing.

When the kids were little I had to experience what they experienced. I put baby shampoo in my own eyes to see if it really wouldn't burn. My friend's daughter got diabetes at 2 years old, and her mom and I gave each other pokes and injections to see what she experienced. Obviously, Ry was not present for his cremation. He was already resting against Christ's legs and telling his stories to all who had waited to greet him and love him. But his flesh, this body that I held and hugged went through the cremation. So many times I had wiped his tears, put bandaids on his booboos and just spent time with him in my lap. That was real, his body was real, his suicide and cremation were real. Looking cremation up helped me somehow. Hopefully, it is part of the process and not demented.

When Ry first died Ron felt driven to view his body as messed up as it was. The policeman said even with his driver's license right there he would not have been able to ID Ryan. It was horrible. But thankfully, brave, compassionate Lisa viewed the pictures and described them to Ron, and it satisfied him. She also stayed at the crematory while they cremated him so his body was not alone, and then brought his ashes down to us. Amazing lady, amazing friend!

We have given out so many tiny, ziplock baggies of Ryan's ashes to people who wanted a part of him. A part to spread in a special place or to keep for themselves. Cam put some in a river and caught a big fish the same day. Nat took some to spread in the ocean. Tanner is more private and wants his experience to remain his own.

Each of us grieves how we grieve. We can't plan it, we just have to live it. One thing I have found is getting through this process with honesty is the best way. Even if it feels creepy to look up cremation I needed to do that. I am learning to allow myself to go with my feelings, my heart, and not second guess myself. Tonight I feel better.

Next Wednesday there is a very strong possibility that I may be getting my first tattoo with all my kids in Santa Fe. I don't feel the need to put some of Ry's ashes in the ink like some people are proposing. But I do think it may be time to get that tattoo I have always talked about getting, of a heart with my kids' hearts filling it up and Christ's love flowing through it.

In Him,
Joyful
2-22-11

SS