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WildBill wrote:

The Annoyed Man wrote:. . .
They call it "ash", but it is really just the ground up remains of what had once been bone. The bone has been thoroughly desiccated by the immense heat, and the organic content is completely burned away. What you're left with is a very dry to the touch, gray in color mineral, which looks like a granular material with a consistency like dusty sandy pea gravel. The powdery part looks and feels like dry cement powder. If you throw it into the wind, the heavier "gravelly" pieces will fall to the ground, while the wind carries off the lighter part of it.

The first time I ever handled human ashes was when my dad passed away. It was a very strange thing to hold, what had once been my dad, in my hands and drift it over the side of a boat.

I learn something new every day.

My late wife's cremains were delivered to me in a simple brass container. By pre-arrangement those remains were parceled out to the children and grandchildren for them either to keep, in "keepsake" containers, and they were to dispose of their "shares" as they saw fit. I took the rest to St. Thomas and rented a boat and scattered them around areas that had been our favorites for snorkeling and glass bottom boat rides. I kept one keepsake for myself.

A bunch of years ago my ship was chosen to do a burial at sea and at the appropriate time we gathered the Honor Guard on the fantail for the ceremony. Absolutely flat calm sea, ship sitting motionless, and the officer reciting all of the words and getting ready to empty the urn over the side, and across the water we can see the surface of the sea riffling up as a wind comes toward us. As Petty Officer in Charge of the Honor Guard I tried to get the attention of the officer in charge, but she shushed me and waved me off, so we all just stood there and watched helplessly as the boot, landlubber, officer dumped the ashes almost simultaneously with the arrival of the wind.

And he was dumping to windward.

My Honor Guard was dressed in whites, which were rendered grey by the cloud of "ash" that blew into our faces, what was left on the deck was washed over the side with fire hoses, and I doubt that very much of the Lt. Cdr. actually made it directly into the ocean.

WildBill wrote:

Abraham wrote:I had a Funeral Director advise me that the heat of cremation is so intense there's no ash, just bone salts left.

I believe that the funeral director told you this, but I think he is misinformed.

Eric Lamberson wrote:Wow--we do cover some ground on this forum. Cremation for me. I was in the 3rd Infantry (The Old Guard) for a number of years and participated in the funerals of over 200 soldiers and their family members. I never saw anyone cry at a funeral where the deceased had been cremated.

My grandfather, Brigadier General Elmer Forrest Wallender is buried in Arlington, Section 5 Plot 2, and my grandmother joined him 17 years later, in an urn.

The family could not get together on a date to go inter "Nan" so my mother and aunt finally decided to just do it themselves and the rest of the family could pound salt.

My father was concerned about them carrying the urn, so he wrapped it up in a box labeled "Electronics Parts" and sealed with duct tape. When my mother and aunt arrived at Ft Myer, where they had been stationed as kids, so they knew the drill, more or less, they proceeded to the burial detail office and were assigned their pall bearer and honor guard and turned over the box containing the urn. It wasn't until after the interment was long over and they were on their way home that they began to wonder if anyone thought to take Nan's urn out of the box. My grandmother is buried in Arlington Cemetery in an electronics parts box.

My first wife was cremated at her request, and much to the chagrin of our children, and her ashes were sprinkled around Hassell Island and Water Island just off Charlotte Amalie, ST. Thomas.

I have left specific instructions for my disposal, the Navy owes me a burial at sea, my wife and I own a slot in a Columbarium in the curch where she used to work (and you must be cremated to go there), and I wish to be sprinkled over a favorite creek where I used to live. My explicit instructions are in my will, including how my ashes are to be parceled out.