Today's post is a guest post. Sybil Sage wrote this to share with you. She is the creative force behind the mosaic urns available at her website - www.sybilsage.com.
There’s no song that captures the sadness you feel at losing a pet, no, “One less coat to untangle, one less water bowl to fill,” so you find yourself questioning if others are this devastated. Minutes after our dog died, with her lifeless body on an examining table, the vet asked, “Would you like to have the remains returned to you?” Neither my husband, our not-yet-ready-for-tragedy-aged son (is anyone ever?), nor I were prepared for the question. A cremation urn is about death, totally antithetical to the fun and playfulness we associated with Z.C., our black and white shaggy Tibetan Terrier. We shrugged and returned home, no “I’m so glad you’re back,” greeting awaiting us.
I was desperate to help my son, but unsure what to do. We were all overwhelmed by the sadness and emptiness. For eleven years, Z.C. had been part of the daily routine, comforting and distracting us from the difficult, never the source of it, always ready to lick us out of a bad mood. Now, when we most needed something uplifting, there was nothing to be had. The three of us unashamedly cried, hugged and talked about our grief. We fingered her leash and her red, vinyl raincoat, but the only activity that seemed to offer comfort was looking at pictures of Z.C. I suggested we put all the photos into an album. With each photo, one of us would say, “She was so cute.” We each picked a favorite and made it our screensaver.
Time was useful in the healing process. Eventually, we adjusted, and missing Z.C. became the new normal. Since photos were so therapeutic, I was determined to find a way to incorporate photos into the mosaic work I’d been doing. After some experimentation, I figured out how to create a vase that would celebrate Z.C. My son helped choose the photos and served as tech support, teaching me how to re-size pictures and print them. I then designed a pattern, using carefully nipped plates (black and white Oneida Shadow plates the color as Z.C.’s coat) along with ceramic tiles and glass gems. Using alphabet beads, I inserted Z.C. (photo to the left) Working together on the project was terrific, and the completed vase, with Z.C.’s sweet face looking out at us, brings the same smiles to our faces that she once did. It’s not a conventional memorial, which is what makes it even more special.
I was delighted when my niece asked if I’d design an urn for Cinnamon, a pound dog whose remains had been stashed away in a closet for four years. The colors match the couch in their family room, and with Cinnamon’s tags tied on, the urn has an almost lifelike quality. The teenage girls are delighted to have Cinnamon in the room where she used to romp. (photo below)
It doesn’t matter how old our children are, we hurt when they hurt. The mother of an adult called, upset because her daughter had just put down her cat, Max. “I’m so glad you’re doing these urns. When she saw them on your web site, she burst into tears. Will you do one for her? I want to give it to her as a present.” Max’s soulful face won me over and though I’d never met her cat, I felt sad. The urn was finished the day before the remains would be returned to her. Seeing the urn, she choked up. “Max always made me feel serene, and you captured that.” (photo below)
Her mother summed it up, “These are not just pieces of art. These are pieces of heart.”
There are others on my web site (www.sybilsage.com). Clients choose the colors and provide me with photos that I embed into the mosaic design. I've had unusual requests, and managed to include one dog's ribbon and stuffing from a couch on another urn (story withheld to protect the reputation of the dog). The collaborations feel as if they are the start of what I hope is a healing process. One client from Texas sent me delicious pralines along with her dog's tags.
--Sybil Sage
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