Heather,
I lost my precious friend, Luna, last December 10th. Her ashes are in a wooden box next to my bed and I still find myself talking to her, to say my good mornings, say my good nights, and cry on her "shoulder" when the heartache returns. I won't bury her ashes, or scatter them as I thought I would, because I find I still need her close to me. I found a single black Luna hair on my desk at work a week or so after she died. I picked it up and thought "I can't lose this" and I taped it to my monitor, where it still remains today. I didn't realize before she died that I really didn't
know what a heartache truly was, it was more of a concept to me with just enough fleeting emotion for me to think I did know. Now I do know how a heart aches.
My employer sent me some beautiful plants the day after Luna died, so Luna would have a garden in her memory. Her favorite rock, the one she loved to slide all over the patio is there, tucked among the flowers. My son used a grinder to write her name on it. Luna's Garden has given me something to care for that I care about, and that helps.
My next door neighbor made me a pendant urn similar to the one flyballmom has (thanks, Beth). I wanted one that reminded me of Luna, so my neighbor and I designed it together. It's a round silver urn, with a pinch of Luna's ash, a pinch of Luna's fur (both colors
) and a moonstone set in the front that you can see a crescent moon in, when the light is just right. Luna goes everywhere with me.
Years ago, I would have thought some of this was off the deep end. Not now. Heather, you do what you need to do to preserve the memory of your friend in the way that feels right to you. Godspeed, Nikki girl...