It was interesting to me as last year Rob was very resistant to visiting the cemetary. He "hated" such places as he put it. I said that was fine, he did not have to come. And I did not force it. Death is a tough thing and I think that Rob was at the age when he started to realize that K and I are mortal and this was freaking him out. He did not want to talk about why he felt that way, so I just let him stay home anytime we went. This year, he is apparently over that and offered to come with the littles and I. He and KC planted the back of the stones and Lissa and I did the front. We all took turns watering things in. It was very hot out and things will shock quickly planted in the heat.
Doing this task gives my kids a sense of their family history. Each year, while we plant there is conversation about who is at what grave. KC always points out that his first name is my grandfathers and his middle name iis my FIL's (he is still alive but his name is engraved on the stone where his wife is buried) I share a story about the people that is typically funny and age appropriate. We watch wildlife while we tend as well. It was a semi-quiet peaceful interlude. As we left, a middle aged gentleman was watering several stones with a hose. He was going right down the row where my MIL's stone is. I told him if he wanted to give our new flowers an extra drink that would be wonderful. He gave a broad smile and immediately started watering them.
I have not yet decided if I will have a grave when my time to leave this earth comes. I go back and forth on it. I don't want my kids to feel that they have an obligation to tend a spot where nothing but my ashes remain. On the other hand, nights like this also seem to show that there is a benefit to the tending, the connecting and the remembering.
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