Gypsy came home yesterday.
The urn... is a beautiful solid oak box with her photo in it on the front just above her name and the engraving. The photo was something that I picked out for it. It's one of her as a puppy, literally taken the week that we brought her home.
During the days after her death, while we waited to get back her remains, I was slowly beginning to heal a little more. With the company of my friends, and their support, I started to feel a little better.
Eventually, it became easier for me to speak of Gypsy in the present sense... as though she were still with us physically.
Heh,... there's even a running joke between me and Kim that Gypsy must still dive bomb her cat Strawberry straight from heaven. After all, that was Gypsy's favorite thing to do on Kim's ranch whenever we would go there on the weekends.
In short,... I was getting better.
But,... it's strange.
When I saw her urn, after placing her onto her specially cleared spot,... the sight of it kind of stunned me a little. I think it was because of what it was.
This was her...
This polished little box with her photo on it... This was her.
The sight of it, finally there in front of me,... is what really made the reality hit home. She's really gone. This... REALLY happened.
I cried.
In both sadness, and a little happiness,... I cried.
Sadness because it does still hurt to acknowledge the reality, but happiness because... she's finally back home.
It's gonna be hard to wrap my mind around though. The very concept that the creature I used to love and hug is now within this little urn,... this little box,... is still pretty hard to believe.
She brought color into our lives when we met her, then left it grey when God took her.
