Dearly departed, yet still near

Even before their hunting dog died, John and Patty Laub had planned a memorial for Zak. Patty made garden steppingstones inlaid with stained-glass designs, so it made sense to mix Zak's cremated ashes into the concrete and make a stone in his memory, complete with a mosaic pheasant in flight.

Word traveled, and other dog owners asked for similar tributes. Then horse owners heard of the Laubs' work. Pet Steps to Heaven became a business.

Then someone asked if they'd consider using human ashes.

"At first I said, 'I'm not going to go there,'" Patty said. But other requests came in from people with ashes stashed in their closets, looming from a mantel or, in one case, riding around in the back of a pickup truck. Patty's squeamishness gave way to a sense of service, and she began incorporating human cremains into concrete benches. The result is Memories in Stones.

The Laubs' venture is just one of several that speak to the conflicted feelings many people have about death. We want to keep our memories alive, yet not feel haunted. We vow to always tend a grave, then we move across the country. We commend their souls, but yearn for something to touch. There are the wishes of the deceased to consider.

"I'm claustrophobic, so I don't want to be planted," Patty said. "The thought of being put in the ground doesn't work for me."

Options are inventive

As we saw in the recent "Body Worlds" exhibit in St. Paul, there is the option of donating your body to Dr. Gunther von Hagen's plastination process. But there are other, subtler approaches.

Some ventures look to the sea. Eternal Reefs mixes cremains into concrete that's cast into the form of a coral reef to make a marine habitat, while SeaRest Inc. encases cremains within concrete blocks to create artificial reefs.

Looking heavenward, Space Services Inc. was the company that launched the cremated remains of "Star Trek" creator Gene Roddenberry into orbit around Earth. Then there's Eternal Ascent, in which cremated remains are placed inside a large balloon and released. At about 5 miles high, it freezes and fractures, releasing its cargo.

Oh, and there are several companies that will mix cremains with gunpowder and turn them into a fireworks display.

Some people mix cremains into pigments and paint pictures -- or, like one musician, ask to be painted as musical notes on a score. Then there was the hunter who had his ashes stuffed into hollowed bullets and shot at wild game.

LifeGem Inc. gained attention a few years ago for extracting carbon from cremated remains and, using heat and pressure, creating a synthetic diamond. The company has since discovered how to extract carbon from a lock of hair -- be it human or a pet. And, for that matter, living or dead.

Raven led the way

The Laubs, who live in Lindstrom, Minn., hadn't intended to start a business. But when good friend Ron Schara heard about Zak's memorial stone, "the light bulb went off in me." Raven, the Labrador retriever who was his famous sidekick on the "Minnesota Bound" TV show, had died in October 2005, so the Laubs set about designing a memorial bench that Schara then talked about on his show. The bench will be installed at the Two Rivers Wildlife Area near Sleepy Eye, Minn.

"Raven literally generated almost a quarter-million dollars to acquire that land" for the Pheasants Forever conservation group, Schara said, reminiscing about walks that he and Raven took through the prairie. "There's a beautiful knob out there where we're going to place the bench, so she'll have returned."

It sounds lovely. Yet when it comes to human remains, survivors prove a little less comfortable in explaining their motivations -- or at least going public. One man was happy to talk about his family's decision with their father's ashes, but only if their privacy could be maintained.

"I think a lot of people are like us: What do we do with the ashes?" he said. "We didn't want the awkward thing of them being on the mantel and everyone knowing what it is." So, the box of remains was in their mother's closet until they heard of the Laubs' memorial benches.

His parents used to live on Lake Minnetonka, and family members are looking for land there again. "We thought how neat of an idea it would be to put the bench in a place that we feel makes a lot more sense, and suited his personality."

Each work is personal

Cost for one of the Laubs' memorials ranges from $170 for a small stone to $895 for a bench. Each is personalized because "every pet and every person means something different to somebody," John said. Some have paw prints that were pre-cast, others hold votive candles.

The steppingstones and benches come in various colors, and have a slightly mottled effect. That's the calcium, John said. To fend off possible discomfort of stepping on a loved one, the stones are topped with a layer of pure concrete. (For more information, go to www.memoriesinstones.com or www.petstepstoheaven.com.)

The Laubs say that customers tell them they're grateful for finally having an option that feels both respectful and functional -- and portable, given how far-flung families can be these days. They encourage people to come to Lindstrom, "so they can see I'm not just a big factory," Patty said.

"I didn't start this to become anything. I just did this for Zak."

Kim Ode • 612-673-7185

Kim Ode • kimode@startribune.com