We all fall down.

This week Mario went to Dallas for depositions. He returned with a set of souvenier glitter glue markers for Clare and Wesley. It's not much but you should have seen their faces when he gave them to the kids this morning. Just the idea of being remembered while he was away for work thrilled them. I have vivid memories of my mother and Stan jumping around the living room presenting little samples of hotel shampoo and soap for us as kids after their trips. We loved it! They remembered us! We were loved.

Somewhere in those childhood memories my father made a trip to North Carolina. He travelled to Durham because my Grandpa died. We stayed with my mom while he was gone taking care of things. When he got back we went to his house and we found a cardboard box on the coffee table. I assumed that it was a present for me. A travel treat.

But all I found inside was a plastic bag filled with grey ashes. No glitter glue markers...just the remains of my Grandpa. I closed the box quickly and put it back on the table. I don't know who was there, if anyone, but it was a pretty scary find. And embarrassing because I knew for sure that I had just opened up something that was definitely not for me.

So today when I drove the kids out to the veterinarian to pick up Bailey's ashes I knew to take extra care with curious fingers. We went out towards Harbison and spent time re-reading Dog Heaven. Dr. Blaes came out and sat down with both kids because they still wanted to meet the doctor that helped Bailey get to Dog Heaven. He rocked. He was goofy, serious, concerned and loving towards both of them. The whole conversation about his animals in heaven and his 200 plus guinea pigs at home thrilled all of us.

But Bailey wasn't there. I forgot that we agreed to pick him up at the Northeast clinic while we were there last week. So I put the kids back in the car, drove across town and scooted them inside to discreetly pick up Bailey. The other clinic called ahead so he was ready to go in a bag when we arrived.

So tonight I brought Bailey home. He may go for a ride up to New Hampshire with us just because he can. His ashes are contained in a small mahogany box (oh the madness of picking out the wood pre-injection while still holding my dog in my arms) with room on the front to insert a picture. It's actually quite nice and it cannot be opened at all by little hands. St. Francis Pet Services sent along a brass plate to engrave, put a sticker with Bailey's name on the bottom of the box, and included a notarized certificate that the remains are indeed Bailey's.

What a week. We remain sad and achy inside but today is better than yesterday which is better than the day before. We are trying hard to talk about Bailey each day and our feelings with the kids and each other so that we can minimize the emotional outbursts. As odd as it may be, it's kind of nice to have him back in our home.