Moving the ashes of a dear loved one, from an existing urn to a new urn
In the whirlwind in which you find yourself after a death - especially if it is unexpected - you don't want to have to search far and wide for choices. And so it can happen that you don't realize until later that you haven't chosen the urn that gives you comfort or fits the deceased after all.
Stylish, tasteful urns can play a soothing role in the grieving process and help memorialize a loved one in peace & beauty. A beautifully designed urn is more than an object, it is a comforting reminder of a loved one.
Thus, some people choose to find a new urn to replace the existing one, and give the ashes of the dear loved one a new, beautiful purpose.
Similarly, almost 10 years after the sudden death of her mom, Karolien - co-founder of Artemis urns - chose to look for a new urn and move the ashes. Below you can read her story.
A new urn for my beloved mom
"10 years have passed. 10 years since the shock wave of acute heart failure that wiped my mom (then 59) away from the world. I was not at all prepared for this. No one, for that matter. Not my father nor my family. This was too soon. Way too soon.
For most of that time, my portion of her ashes remained safely stored in an urn, placed in the "cabinet-with-the-lion's-head." That's a special cabinet I had been given from home after our wedding, and where the legs on the front represent lion heads artfully carved in wood. It also seemed better to me not to be confronted with the urn every day in an unguarded moment, and the feeling would wear off that way.
That first urn was not thoughtfully chosen, but half-heartedly, in an uproar of swelling grief and in silence, marked in a display case at the funeral home. Each time I then saw this urn on the shelf in our closet, surrounded by the box of "greeting cards for all occasions," the wicker sewing basket and the bag of scraps of wool, I knew this was a situation that was not right.
Only later did I realize that it was the urn itself that was wrong. It offered me no comfort and it was not what my mom would have chosen for herself. I just felt that very strongly.
In the course of last year, there it was, suddenly, the tipping point that signaled that the wound of grief had become sufficiently small, and left opening to look for another urn. Well thought out. One that breathed comfort and hope at the same time. One that was lovingly handmade and had the right shade of natural materials. One that did not immediately say "I am an urn, see my grief". One with style. One that was at the same time discreet, and that would not be looked away from anxiously.
This new urn now has a place in our living room. Sometimes with mom's picture frame next to it, sometimes with candles, and like now, for the anniversary, next to a vase with a few sprigs of willow catkins my husband picked. A much warmer surround than in the cupboard-with-the-lion-head, in other words.
10 years passed, but that was the time needed to allow a nice turnaround and acceptance."