My mother in law, as you may or may not recall, passed away last spring. She was 90, and had a full and happy life, which we celebrated in style at her funeral. Her body was cremated, with plans to inter her next to her husband in her family crypt in Hamilton.Â Itâ€™s been a busy summer, and somehow or other those plans have been temporarily shelved, as have her remains, which are in a cardboard package sitting on the bookshelf next to the TV in the family room.
There are worse places to be, I think. I have a friend whose father died thirty years ago, and whose mother, who remarried, Â still keeps his ashes in an urn in her nightstand. Personally, I wouldnâ€™t mind having my ashes sit on the bookshelf in the family room. Itâ€™s cozy and convivial, and if my ghost is till lurking around it could watch episodes of â€œFamily Guyâ€™, not to mention â€œThe Walking Deadâ€.Â Maybe whisper to Ronan to turn the volume down on his video games.
Not my mother in lawâ€™s cup of tea, however, and she will be looked after as soon as the family gets its act together. There is, however, an added complication: when her house was put up for sale last spring, they found the cremated remains of HER mother in law in the basement. Johnâ€™s paternal grandmother died in 1992, and her wish was to have her ashes scattered in her native Czechoslovakia. Which ceased to exist six months after she died. Which is still no excuse.
The interim solution, I think, is to put the two packages together on the bookshelf and deal with them accordingly. Mothers in Law: Volumes One and Two.Â