Sometimes, my heart hurts.
I am missing Rocket a lot lately. I might seem like a horrible, insensitive horse owner/person, but I ignored my responsibility of picking up his ashes. I have always been freaked out by death and everything related to it, even when it involves a loved one. I asked my mom to handle it a couple months after his death and to ask them if they could mail them. The thought of driving to Tufts, picking them up alone, and having his ashes in my car honestly scared me. Recently, Tufts contacted me. I had thought my mom had done it, she had thought I had done it, when in reality neither of us had. I felt really shitty. Anyone who knows me must know how much this horse meant and still means to me. We made arrangements for his ashes to be sent to my parents' house, where they will keep them safe until I decide what exactly to do with them. I have never understood the fact that people are comforted by ashes so I didn't really want them in an urn, and I already have his mane and tail for