Here’s the piece I mentioned in my previous post:
It’s on a shelf above the staircase that leads to the basement / mancave.
I love it, and have named him Gizmo.
He has two heads, huge wings, a hinged beak of a nose and his tongue points upwards. His claws are sharp and point right at you. We’re friends.
The pottery next to him holds some of the most gloriously white sand you’ve ever seen, with a little of my dad’s ashes to stain it dark. His dog tags hang from the lid.
Lots of stories and memories show themselves when I see that urn. Having a Marine Corps drill instructor for a father makes a girl grow testicles.