Lost in Transit

Dearest Rachel –

Since I’m well aware that I’m both quite impatient and forgetful, I try to use those flaws of mine in tandem to offset each other. For any long-term plan or project – especially one with a set date (like travel plans) or requiring others’ contributions – I do my part, set the process in motion… and then do my level best to forget about it. That way, I don’t get anxious about any possible delay between initiation and implementation.

So, while it’s been almost a year since I sent my payment on to the company that’s supposed to be turning your ashes (just a cupful of them, I hasten to point out) into diamonds, I’ve not been worried about it. If nothing else, I can certainly accept that the process takes time. Besides, they have been sending me updates every now and again, both chronicling certain individual steps, as well as offering the occasional apology for delays, due to certain supply chain issues (although in fairness, I’m not sure what exactly would need to be supplied – you are the basic ingredient, and most of what needs to be applied from there I would assume to be heat and pressure. Still, at the risk of sounding naïve, I assume they know what they are doing, and what they need in order to do it).

Still, the call the other day was rather peculiar. It was from one of the company executives; a co-founder, no less, according to the credentials at the bottom of his email. He was profusely apologetic, but he asked me if I could confirm whether I had seen the check clear in my bank (or in this case, with our brokerage account), because they hadn’t any record of having the payment show up on their end. He sent me a copy of the check I had sent to them, to confirm that they had received it, but he acknowledged that they had no evidence that the amount had been deposited in their bank account, and would I be so kind as to confirm this for them?

For a brief, heartstopping moment, I thought that they were trying to con me out of yet another payment to them, when what I’ve paid them so far is already considerably more than the price that an ordinary one-carat diamond would sell for on the market (of course, this is no ordinary diamond, to be sure – this is made of atoms that were once a part of you. That’s what makes it special to me alone, and worth the cost). But after poring through pages of activity online, I was unable to find a point where the check had actually cleared over the past twelve months. I even called the broker’s office to confirm it and they came back emptyhanded as well. As far as the money is concerned, I’ve not actually seen anything but the initial $100 outlay for the kit to send the ashes to them in the first place leave my hands. The check for the main portion of the process had simply been lost in transit somewhere between them and their bank.

Now, I don’t know if this is another part of why a process I was told would be but a matter of months has taken nearly a year, but it does explain a bit all the same. For now, I’ve cut a new check to send to them (they have graciously reduced the amount by $500, in part because of the delay, but in his email to me, it’s stated that it’s ostensibly because I’m not having them set the gem in the first place, which is also true), and all I need to do is to pop it in the post for them…

…and that poses a new problem. It so happens that, for all the email updates I’ve gotten from them throughout this process, and particularly with this new issue to resolve, I haven’t any record of their mailing address. I think the original payment was sent with the ashes by return mail, so it isn’t as if I ever had the information in an email to refer to. Heaven knows, I don’t want this payment to get lost in transit, especially on my end; if there are going to be issues, I want them to be their responsibility, not mine. But until I hear back from them, there’s not much I can do without an address.

So, as long as the ball’s in their court, all I can do is wait… and try not to think too hard about it, lest I get impatient. With that being said, honey, keep an eye on me (and your ashes, for that matter), and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.