Makes me think of Eliza Ann Gifford, after the Deacon died.

She had his ashes in a little bronze, brown box on the front room mantel, and fresh flowers on 'em every day of her life.

Used to give one a fearful turn every time they called on her.

So far as I'm concerned, I'm perfectly willing to wait for Gabriel's last trump to let my dust and ashes rest in a decent grave.
"If I were you, Kit, I'd have a heart-to-heart talk with the Dean himself, and I know your mother will be just as relieved as can be to hear you're homeward bound.".