i love really old and decrepit gravestones that tell a story, hate the modern ones...the dead don't give a fuck!
As much as I love graveyards, I don't want to go into one.
I love the gravestones, but please throw me to the wind!
I was all hyped up about natural burial till I got to the price. EEEK. I've threatened to haunt anyone who spends money on my carcass.One of the things my parents did very right was talk to us long ago about their wishes, and we talked about ours. It's kind of uncomfortable, but not nearly as uncomfortable as trying to figure out what to DO with a dead loved one.
When I was growing up, a girl in my class was killed in an accidental shooting when we were young. Her parents buried her in the community graveyard and her grave stone had a picture of her on it. The photo was covered with a brass cover. At first, I remember that it freaked me out but every time I was at that cemetary, and I was there a lot because my mom was the secretary of the cemetary association, I always went to her grave first and looked at her picture. I started enjoying the fact that I could be reminded her her face. It was comforting.
Post a Comment