Scattering ashes of a cremated loved one is a common request. But how many people actually do it? There are literally millions of sets of cremated remains sitting in basements, closets and garages. It doesn’t have to be that way.

Last year, I began fulfilling a request from my brother-in-law, Steven Bleicher, who died unexpectedly March 11, 2025. Steven was an artist, art professor, and color theory expert who created a series of artworks inspired by Route 66.

In his will, he asked to be cremated and have some of his ashes scattered along the Mother Road. So I turned that request into a series of road trips.

The first trip covered part of Route 66 through Arizona. But there is still more road ahead.

This time, I decided to go from the beginning to the end: from Chicago to the Pacific Ocean. From Alpha to Omega.

You can watch the video here:

The Beginning of the Road

The beginning of Route 66 in Chicago, across from the Art Institute.

The journey started in Chicago, where Route 66 officially begins. I was already there for the National Funeral Directors Association convention and expo, which felt fitting for this kind of mission.

Before I even reached the famous Route 66 “Begin” sign on East Adams Street, I stopped at a bridge over the Chicago River. Standing there, I scattered a small portion of Steven’s ashes into the water.

Right across the street from the Route 66 starting point is the Art Institute of Chicago. What a meaningful landmark for remembering Steven, who spent his life immersed in art and teaching others about color and design.

It felt like the perfect place to begin the journey.

A California Road Trip

A few weeks later, the trip continued in California, moving my scattering ashes adventure to the end of Route 66. My companions were longtime friends Jim and Elizabeth Cochran, with Jim serving as cameraman for the adventure.

Our plan was simple: follow the Mother Road to its end, stopping at a few memorable landmarks along the way.

The Wigwam Motel in San Bernardino.

One of those stops was the site of the first McDonald’s in San Bernardino, now a museum filled with a truly astonishing collection of vintage burger memorabilia. Before scattering ashes there, I asked permission, and received it.

The Wigwam Motel was the primary reason to go to San Bernardino. The one piece of Steven’s Route 66 artwork that I had during my Arizona trip was an image of a tee pee motel in Holbrook, Arizona. I didn’t know where it was located, and we didn’t get off I-40 to go into Holbrook when we drove by. So I sought out this one, and it was so worth the visit. Scattering ashes took place with the proprietor’s permission.

Another stop was the 1915 Rancho Cucamonga Service Station, now preserved as a Route 66 museum celebrating the early days of American road travel. Again, permission granted. Another small scattering. Another moment of remembrance.

A Few Detours Along the Way

Of course, a Route 66 road trip isn’t complete without a few quirky stops.

Chicken Boy in Highland Park. A Route 66 oddity worth the hunt.

In Pasadena, Route 66 runs along Colorado Boulevard, famous as the route of the Tournament of Roses Parade.

And in Los Angeles’ Highland Park neighborhood, we went searching for the legendary Chicken Boy statue, a giant fiberglass figure holding a bucket of fried chicken.

After a bit of hunting, we found him.

I snapped some photos, though I didn’t scatter ashes there.

Sometimes just being present in a place is enough.

The End of the Trail

At the end of Route 66 on the Santa Monica Pier with Jim and Elizabeth Cochran.

The journey ended where Route 66 officially finishes, at the Santa Monica Pier.

Standing at the edge of the Pacific Ocean, I scattered another portion of Steven’s ashes.

From the Chicago River to the Pacific surf, the journey completed the arc of the Mother Road.

From Alpha to Omega.

Steven’s artwork celebrated Route 66.

Now part of him has traveled its length.

And along the way, I discovered something unexpected.

These road trips for scattering ashes became a moving memorial service.

Each stop was a moment to remember Steven, to reflect on the strange, beautiful ways we honor the people we love, and how they continue to influence our lives.

Sometimes remembrance isn’t confined to a chapel or cemetery. Sometimes it happens on the open road.

Make those stops and take those pictures! Life is a journey, and there’s no going back.

Gail Rubin, Certified Thanatologist and The Doyenne of Death, is the author of the forthcoming book, 98.6 Mortality Movies to See Before You Die: Remarkable Films and TV Shows to Discuss Death and Plan Ahead. Learn more and pre-order your copy here.