The Unboxing… and Reboxing

Dearest Rachel –

Admittedly, it sounds like one of those things from ‘Scenes From A Hat’ on Whose Line Is It, Anyway?

Whose Line Is It Anyway? - Scenes From A Hat | Whose line ...
“Things… you shouldn’t say… at a funeral…”

But hey, here goes…

“Hi, and welcome to my unboxing video!”

Yeah, it sounds wrong in that context, doesn’t it?

But here we are. I’ve gotten, supposedly, a kit for me to collect some of your ashes, and then send it back to them, so that they can grow a diamond from it for me to keep with me. I’m not particularly good at putting one of these things together, but let’s take a look, shall we?

So, I brought the box over to the ‘office’ in order to open it up and look at it.
And found myself immediately dealing with the equivalent to a matryoshka doll; I’m going to assume that the second box inside is there so I can ship it back to them.
And would you believe, inside that box… is another box? Granted, this one looks a lot fancier
And once I figured out how to open it, it proved just how fancy it was by including a video message from the salesperson I had talked to about the whole process.

That was three weeks ago; a week before, I had gone to visit the jeweler who’d, thirty years ago, sold me the engagement ring I gave you and later, our wedding bands. He’s set up his own practice since, but it seems appropriate to have him create the setting for your diamond – and advise me as to the size and cut of the stone I should ask for. Oddly enough, his recommendation (as far as the diamond was concerned) was fairly conventional – I should stick with a colorless diamond, and at least one carat in size. Beyond that, he proposed a setting in white gold, and strongly preferred amethysts to any other purple stone: tanzanite, in particular, is too fragile for daily wear.

However, in the end, there wasn’t anything he could do but make recommendations at this point until such time as I had the stone in hand. So it’s going to be a year or so before it comes to that. At least now, I have a handle on the size to request – and the amount I need to send to the folks whose job it is to grow what’s left of you into the diamond.

And that’s why I’ve waited this long, too; it’s an expensive process, apparently, to turn you into this precious stone. I didn’t have the kind of cash at the time to just ship you off to them at the time this box arrived. Since that’s just been resolved, I figured I might as well get on with the process – how better to spend yet another monthly anniversary than putting together yet another way to memorialize you?

Underneath the first layer of padding is a scoop and a tin for the ashes.
They even included a pair of rubber gloves in order to reach in and scoop you out of the urn; I’m afraid I got a little bit of your dust on them in the process, which I suppose is the whole point.
It’s not so much the process of scooping that’s so messy, as much as it is the fact that the bag within the urn is almost entirely lined with particulate. As they said of the scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz, “that’s you all over.”
Once it’s out of the bag, it’s fairly easy to deal with – although, on my first try, I spilled a small portion onto the coffee table. I swept it off into the tin. I know you wouldn’t have wanted me to waste a grain of it.
They ask for between eight and ten scoops; this is what only the first scoop looks like. I’m not sure that many will even fit in here.
And yet, it does manage to fit. I stop at nine, figuring that a little bit extra wouldn’t be a bad idea. Believe it or not, the company suggests adding some of my own hair, so that the resulting stone contains carbon from both of us ‘in an eternal hug,’ but I don’t know; this is supposed to represent you, after all. It’s not that I’d contaminate the mix, but I don’t see it as necessary. It’s enough that I’ll be wearing you for the rest of my days (and beyond).
So here it is, as collected and sealed (with Kris’ help – hope you don’t mind, but a couple extra hands help immensely, especially when I’m trying to document the operation).
As instructed, I’ve also replaced the tape, so nothing spills while in transit.

So now, it’s time to send this on for processing. While the box comes with prepaid shipping, there’s no obvious way to include my payment for the diamond manufacture in the first place – assuming I know how much it is. Is tax included in the price as quoted?

As it turns out, no, it isn’t. My sales representative quotes me a final price that’s ten percent higher than I’d read previously. Well, it’s not as if I wasn’t expecting it; at least I have a final amount to write down on the check. And it isn’t as if I’m required to print out and include an order form, since I don’t have a functioning printer here at home. However, I’ll have to fill it out online and send it to the company electronically tomorrow, now that I’ve sent you off to the company to process.

Enjoy your trip, honey. You’ll be so beautiful once they finish with you.

Published by randy@letters-to-rachel.memorial

I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

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