These are wonderful stories! Last year when we rather suddenly had to let Rosie go due to CHF, I waited impatiently to get her ashes back. For some reason, it took longer than expected. When I opened the package, there was a lovely little cedar box with her name on the lid. Inside it, I found a tidy little packet of white ashes, as pure as Florida beach sand. Then, I stared in confusion, because attached to the packet was a sweet little pink silk ribbon rose. Then it dawned on me, her name was ROSIE! I like to think some unknown worker at the crematorium had added that touch to let me know she understands. And yes, I still get teary thinking about it.
