CREMATION JEWLERY
A universe in glass: Violet’s Cremation Pendant
When Violet died, I didn’t think I needed anything. I had seen cremation jewelry online—there were options—but none of it felt quite right. Nothing truly spoke to me. That changed the moment I met my therapist for the first time.
Around her neck, she wore a glass pendant containing her daughter’s ashes. It was beautiful. Subtle, glowing, full of quiet meaning. I couldn’t stop looking at it. There was something about seeing that piece in real life, so close to someone else’s heart, that unlocked something in mine. I realized I did want something after all—something just as meaningful, just as full of love.
She told me about the artist: Lezlie.
When I met Lezlie, she welcomed me into her home. Every inch of it was artwork—glasswork, paintings, jewelry, and pieces I couldn’t even name. Each room held a different expression of her creativity. Some crafts she had clearly mastered long ago; others she was still playing with. It was amazing. Her space felt alive.
Although she had a full schedule, she found a way to create Violet’s piece in time for Mother’s Day. I will never forget that generosity.
The pendant she created is layered and luminous—two-sided, like a tiny universe suspended in glass. On one side, our cat and Violet’s best friend Winston sits quietly, watching over her as a butterfly—a symbol we chose in honor of Violet’s butterfly-shaped urn. On the other side, Violet and her big brother Charlie hold hands beneath a rainbow. Their soft blonde heads are visible from behind, and tiny flowers bloom from the base: forget-me-nots, violets, a sunshine with a smiling face.
Violet’s ashes are layered into the piece in a way that feels like stardust—visible, textured, and integral to the art itself. Lezlie explained that to create it, she had to stretch and layer tiny bits of glass while keeping the temperature perfectly even throughout the process. It’s an incredibly delicate technique that requires years of mastery.
Before starting, I had sent Lezlie a few photos of Violet, Charlie, and Winston—just for reference. She printed them out, made a collage, and kept it near her while she worked. That meant everything to me. She wasn’t just making jewelry; she was holding Violet in her heart and hands.
One of the unexpected things about this piece is how children seem drawn to it. Maybe it's the shimmer of the glass, or maybe it's something deeper—some wordless recognition that this necklace holds love. Kids reach out to touch it with a quiet curiosity, like they sense it’s important. The way they pause with it—gently, reverently—reminds me how visible love can be, even when the person we love is no longer here.
This pendant is more than a keepsake. It’s a connection. A small, sacred place where Violet’s love and light still live, and where I can return to her—over and over again.
To see more of Lezlie’s work, visit bylezlie.com.