The kind of "blind obedience" once theologized as the ultimate step to holiness, is itself blind. It blinds a person to the insights and foresight and moral perspective of anyone other than an authority figure. — Sister Joan D. Chittister, OSB
Recently I came across a Facebook post linking readers to an article titled Vatican: No more scattering of cremation ashes. The article described the Vatican's recently reaffirmed (though long-standing) guidelines for Roman Catholics who choose cremation. According to those guidelines, cremated remains are not to be scattered, divided among family members, or kept at home. Instead, they are to be laid to rest in a place the Church recognizes as sacred.The passionate responses the post generated reminded me of an exchange I had some time ago with a member of our online Grief Healing Discussion Groups.
A reader writes: I am asking for some advice. My father passed away a few months ago, and every day is a challenge. Ever since I can remember, my dad said that when he died he wanted to be cremated and have his ashes scattered in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania. My mom, my sister, my husband, and I are planning to do that in a few weeks. We have our plane tickets, rental car, and hotel, so everything is set.
I'm very nervous about it. I feel like it will be so hard, and when I think about letting go of his ashes, it feels as though he is dying all over again.
I'm very nervous about it. I feel like it will be so hard, and when I think about letting go of his ashes, it feels as though he is dying all over again.
I've heard that a small portion of a loved one's ashes can be placed in a keepsake or piece of memorial jewelry. I think I'll probably save a little in a small urn for now and look into that later. Some people have given me strange looks when I tell them we're scattering my dad's ashes but keeping a portion. They say it's odd to "split him up."
Can you offer some insight? Is what we're doing weird?
My response: My dear, as you travel this journey through grief, I think it's important to discover what brings you comfort—and then give yourself permission to do exactly that. This is your grief journey. Only you can decide how you will travel it and what you need to carry with you along the way.
After listening to countless stories from grieving families over the years, I can assure you that what you are considering is neither strange nor unusual.
Your question reminds me of a woman in one of my grief support groups. Recently widowed, she described the anguish she felt at the thought of leaving her husband's cremated remains in a mortuary in New York after relocating to Arizona. As a devout Catholic, she understood that while the Church permits cremation, it teaches that cremated remains should be laid to rest in a sacred place, such as a grave or a columbarium in a Catholic cemetery.
What she truly wanted, however, was to keep her husband's urn near her—in a place of honor in her bedroom. Despite the guilt she felt, she listened to her heart and brought his cremated remains home with her.
Earlier that day, just before coming to our support group, she had finally gathered the courage to discuss her concerns with her parish priest.
She shared his response with us.
"My dear," he said, "your home is a holy place."
I cannot adequately describe the expression on that woman's face. The burden she had been carrying seemed to lift instantly. Relief, joy, and peace replaced the guilt she had been feeling for so long. I remember thinking that I wanted to find that priest and hug him for his wisdom and compassion.
When my own father died many years ago in northern Michigan, I didn't know enough to save a lock of his hair or keep a small portion of his cremated remains before the rest were scattered according to his wishes.
A few years later, when my mother died in Florida, my sister and I held a private ceremony and scattered most of her cremated remains among the magnificent red rocks of Sedona, near the Chapel of the Holy Cross—a place that, for me, felt deeply sacred.
This time, however, we found the courage to save a small portion for each of us, so that part of our mother would always remain close. I placed my portion in a China sugar bowl from a treasured set my father had sent home to my mother while he was stationed overseas during World War II. I sealed it carefully, and today it rests in a place of honor in a cabinet in my bedroom beside a photograph of my mother.
Every time I see it, I feel comforted. It reminds me of her love, and in a very real sense, of her continuing presence in my life.
Thanks to the Internet, I've since discovered countless creative and meaningful ways people choose to keep a small portion of a loved one's cremated remains close to them. I've collected links to many of these ideas on the Memorials ~ Funerals ~ Rituals page of my Grief Healing website.
As I've often said, when it comes to honoring someone you love, you are limited only by your imagination. Whether you choose to scatter all of the cremated remains, keep a small portion, create a memorial keepsake, or do something entirely different, what matters most is that your choice brings you comfort and reflects the wishes, values, and love you shared.
I wish you peace, comfort, and gentle healing as you continue this difficult journey.
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