The 2nd hardest thing I've ever done

Yesterday, I faced the daunting task of separating Stephen's ashes into 2 separate containers, so that I could keep some and then send some to Dad. That was so hard to do. I really had to do some deep breathing and psych myself out to do it. I just had to get it over with. The whole time I was scooping his ashes, I was apologizing to him, saying, "Stephen, I'm so sorry if you don't want to be split up. Please forgive me if I'm not doing the right thing."

It wouldn't have been so hard if there weren't fragments in the ashes, like bone or teeth or something. They're not like cigarette ashes or the ashes left after a bonfire. They're brittle and coarse, made up of crushed bone, almost.

The day I received his ashes in the mail from his best friend Casey, I held the box in my lap and just cried. I was thinking, the last time I held my brother, he was cold and laying on a gurney. I hugged him, wishing he'd be warm and be able to hug me back. I didn't know the next time I held him, he would be inside a box that would fit in my lap. It was a surreal experience.

Below is the bag of ashes. I used a DVD case as a reference so you can see the size of the bag and the amount of ashes.