My husband and son know how I feel about what happens when I'm gone. Have me cremated and do or don't do whatever with my ashes. There is a good chance that the ashes they give you won't be mine anyhow. At their convenience they are welcome to have a memorial service at Church or host one in a private room at a restaurant if they want. I have promised them that I will haunt them if either one of them spends big bucks having a funeral and burying me. I get this from my maternal grandmother who made very sure her children knew if they buried her in the Eagleville cemetery she would haunt them. She never said there was someplace she wanted to be buried, just not there. I remember being hushed when I would ask because the grownups didn't want to hear her going off about it. So to this day I don't know who is buried there that she didn't want to be buried in the same place with or if she just disliked Eagleville that much.
This is my story of why I absolutely don't want to be buried. My Mother died when I was 14 and my sister 10. The several years she was sick and dying and the years following her death were very hard for both my sister and I. It was so very painful to visit her grave but I did, riding my bike to the cemetery until I got old enough to drive or when our Father took us. I still remember always making it a point to go in the Spring, when she died, and seeing the white tulips my Father planted. The cemetery was beautiful in the Spring with everything blooming. I haven't lived in my hometown since I was 21. My only sibling, a younger sister, hasn't lived in our hometown since she was about the same age. The closest we've lived was several hours away. My father's ashes were eventually buried in her grave when he passed 31 years later. Reading this thread makes me sad to know that no one has likely visited their grave in years. I've never heard my sister say she goes and I know it has been a lot of years since I have. I still remember wondering when I would visit the cemetery and see the old graves if there was even anyone alive who knew or cared that those people had ever lived. That made me even sadder.
I will be in Ohio late next month staying with our son and his family. I'm going to make sure I have one of their cars for the day to drive to my hometown to tend to her grave and visit the two cousins who still live there.
My MIL died at 92 in 2008. Every Memorial Day, and several other times of year too, she went to the different cemeteries to tend the graves and plant flowers for her parents, her in-laws and her two husbands. There are still some, but probably not many, people of my generation who visit and tend the family graves. I wonder if the younger generations even know that Memorial Day is anything more than a long weekend. Or that it used to be called Decoration Day and was for people to decorate the graves and remember the deceased. The newer, lol they aren't that new, cemeteries don't allow you to plant stuff. They are so flat and bare, there is nothing attractive about them. I'm hoping when I visit the cemetery where my parents are buried that it is still the beautiful place I remember.