Whose Ashes Are These?

The dreaded yellow sticky note.

Listen to this post:

This yellow sticky note greets me on a recent visit to my parents’ house. I know exactly what it means. I wonder what it might conjure for you?

Perhaps your long-living (or even middle-aged) parents also have yellow sticky notes all over their computers and desks. Or maybe they have a few strategically placed so when you come over you’ll notice an important to do item. I’m usually fine with this because it means they are thinking ahead of time about how I can be useful.

I may spy one on the fridge at 6:15 with the word “wine!” on it so my dad remembers to take the chilling wine out of the freezer before dinner.

But this one stirs a kind of annoyed dread in me.

This is a reminder to dig a hole and bury the ashes of my beloved childhood dog, Cassie. She died close to 40 years ago. 3,000 miles away.

Cassie, our sweet, if a bit rambunctious German Shepard mix, died in Connecticut in about 1988. Since then, her ashes, along with her collar and dog tags, have traveled across the country on a moving van and now live in a repurposed plastic Huggies bin in the garage. I feel like her remains should at least be in a beautiful ceramic container after almost 40 years.

Periodically when my sister or I visit, the Huggies box comes out. Recently, it was accompanied by this yellow sticky note on the microwave that said “ASHES!!” This is a very subtle and thoughtful way to let us know we need to make time in this trip to deal with Cassie’s ashes. Because there aren’t enough things to do when you visit your aging parents. Burying our dog 40 years later is now an urgent priority.

I know it’s hard to process the death of a pet. I really do. But carrying this physical and emotional container around for 40 years seems like a lot. Doesn’t seeing the Huggies box of ashes every few months drain one’s emotional energy? 

Could they have been scattered in our yard in Connecticut where she happily ruled with a fierce bark for her entire life? Yes, they could have. But instead they made it into the moving van for the journey to the other side of the country. So here they sit. 

Now, my mom wants a hole dug in the back yard somewhere to bury the ashes and collar. But alas, they have an astroturf yard.  

There is some natural turf but it’s as hard as a rock and impossible to dig in. So the ashes remain in their plastic bin. 

Honestly, I don’t really want to deal with this either. It bothers me that my mom hasn't dealt with this over the last 40 years and now it is my responsibility to take care of it. There are so many other ways I’d rather spend time with my mom at this stage - or even other things I’d rather argue over. 

It seems the longer you hold onto these emotional and physical weights, the heavier they become until you just can’t face them and you hope you never have to. But it really doesn’t feel fair to push them off onto your loved ones either.

I suppose I could sneak them into the trash but that feels wrong and I’d have to answer for it when my mom discovers them there anyway. (You'll understand if you read my Talking Trash post. )

Maybe the next time I am there I will try to strike up a compromise and see if we can scatter the ashes in some shrubbery on the side of their house. We could dig a smaller hole to bury her sweet collar in and mark it with a pretty plant or stone to remember her by. That feels better than collecting dust in the garage. Either way, I’d really love this to come off of my mental and actual list of to-do items.

Have you had to navigate this? What weird and unappealing to-do items do you find yourself facing as your parents age in place?