Yearnin for an Urn

Rewind to a couple of weeks ago, when my brother, B, my sister-in-law, K, and I went shopping for an urn to put my dad's ashes in so he would be presentable at the memorial gathering we had for his friends at the apartment.

We have a collection of ashes at my dad's apartment. First, my mom's, which arrived 17 years ago in a golden container that looks like something you'd put flour in in the 1950's. I used to have it in my kitchen, and when my friends asked me what it was, I'd say, "That's my mom." I brought it over to my dad's place when I moved to Japan, because it's illegal to bring ashes overseas. It's been there ever since.

Four years ago my paternal grandmother died, and her ashes came in a kelly green plastic container. Her container went next to my mom's.

It seems with each passing, the containers get a little lower in quality. Poor Dad. His ashes arrived in a white cardboard container that looked eerily similar to a Happy Meal with no advertising. We knew we'd have to get a more suitable container for Dad that would look nice on the mantel and didn't look like it would contain a small plastic toy. We only had one day to shop. We knew we didn't want a typical urn like a vase. We'd all seen the movies where the urn falls and ashes get spilled everywhere. Where could we get a container with a lid? We headed to the first place we thought of: Zabar's, the gourmet kitchen and food store across the street.

The first containers we came across were ice buckets. B and I immediately scoped them out, laughing hysterically about the possibility of Dad's ashes being contained in a bucket with tongs. He was a drinker; wouldn't be a stretch. K looked shocked and at one point it seemed as though she was saying a prayer in Japanese to offset the disrespect we were showing to the dead. Peals of laughter could be heard from me, as I moved over to the section of soup tureens.

We moved around the store, looking at pots, pans, and coffee containers. We found one that was just what we wanted, plain and simple, but it was too small. We decided to leave Zabar's and go to an antique store. On the way we thought of one of my dad's favorite haunts: The Salvation Army. Dad used to get his opera outfits there, as well as dresses for his dates, in case they didn't have suitable clothing for the Met.

K and I walked in and headed directly for the back of the store where the furniture was kept, and there it was--a silver plated container with a lid. It was as if it called to us. It was the only thing of its kind around, and the store was about to close, so we had to make a decision. It didn't have a price tag, so we asked an employee. He came back and told us $7.99. Not bad; Dad would have approved.

We brought it to the front to show B, and were intercepted by another employee, who told us that the man had given us the wrong price, it was actually $14.99. B wasn't sure if it would get clean ( it was a bit tarnished), and besides, it turned out to be an ice bucket. I noticed a small piece of metal sticking out of it, and asked what it was, and B informed me that's where the tongs went. Ha ha!

K and I were convinced this was the way to go, and we pushed for it and won. The woman who had informed us of the new price said she had actually wanted it, but too bad for her, we plunked down our money and the crafty container was ours.

To be continued...