Think outside the urn
An urn was found last winter in
the back seat of a Buick in Charleston, SC.
It wasn’t intended to be Izetta Dickerson’s final resting place, but
that’s where her cremated remains were found.
The car had been towed to a repair shop where, several days later, there
she was in all her glory.
After a brief investigation,
authorities discovered that Dickerson’s remains had been entrusted to her
son. During a move involving the owner
of the Buick, she was inadvertently misplaced.
When Dickerson’s daughter discovered how carelessly her brother had
handled her mother’s remains, she claimed them and arranged for a fitting
finale.
“Art From Ashes” is a web company
that incorporates a teaspoon of pet or human “cremains” into luminous artwork (www.artfromashes.com). Cremation has become a more popular funeral
option in recent years, thanks in part to the rising costs of dying. Some family members, searching for
personalized ways to remember loved ones, have turned to online businesses to
meet the demand.
Cremated remains can be preserved
in a plethora of ways: in hand-blown
glass ornaments, diamonds, oil paintings containing flecks of ash, charm
bracelets, wind chimes, picture frames and walking sticks. You can even purchase a gift certificate for
that hard-to-buy loved one. One
grieving husband whose wife was a “Wizard of Oz” fan arranged to preserve his
wife’s “cremains” in the form of sparkling ruby slippers.
When you read through the Bible
one of the things you can’t escape is the care and dignity with which people
buried their dead. For example, Genesis
23 records the story of Abraham purchasing the Cave of Machpelah as a burial
plot for his family. That cave became
the final resting place not only for himself and his wife, but each succeeding
generation.
Decades later, after Joseph moved
his family to Egypt, he made plans for his own burial. When he saw the end approaching, Joseph
called for his sons, instructing them to bury his corpse in the family plot in
order to rest with his fathers.
25 years ago my maternal
grandmother suddenly passed away while visiting family in Atlanta, GA. Just as suddenly, my six aunts and uncles
began to argue over who would bear the costs of burial. Grandma’s six children decided on cremation
and my mother flew her remains home to Oklahoma for burial.
Traveling in the 80s was
relatively simple with no searches, no declarations, and no security. My mother simply boarded the plane with
Grandma’s ashes in a cardboard box. Halfway
home the gentleman seated next to her started making small conversation which
eventually led to an innocuous question:
“What do you have in the box?” he asked.
Why couldn’t my mother have
simply said, “Ruby slippers?” A
stranger’s innocent request is no reason to unload the whole, gruesome truth –
but she couldn’t help herself. Without
batting an eye she looked straight into his eyes and said, “My mother.”
When it comes to cremation, the
Bible is silent. Too bad my mother
didn’t follow suit.