This is my second year of life without me dear ol' mater, third without pops. In all of this time I have not visited either of their gravesites. Grief is bizarre. I'm not even sure if I have grieved properly. For those of you who have lost their parents do you visit their resting places on special occasions like Mother's Day, birthdays, and the like? Does anyone find it odd for sons or daughters not to visit their parents' resting places? I loved my mom dearly, but at this point I have never felt the need to sit beside her grave weeping uncontrollably, or, updating her on what's been going on in my life. This dead-parents thing is relatively new for me. Sometimes I think that if I didn't have a framed picture of my mom in my bedroom I'd go on not remembering at times. So fucking weird.

I think you'll understand why you went once you go there, even if you don't feel the explicit need to.

I've only been to the remembrance garden where my dad's ashes were scattered once since he died four years ago. Partly because I was in the south for half that time (although I came up to visit) but mainly because all the unresolved issues I had with him came crashing in once he died. These have been somewhat resolved now and so these days I miss him. There's a stone there with an inscription for him. I went and sat there for a while. It's always got flowers beside it because my sister goes every week. It felt good; just a quiet place to sit and be with him. My eldest brother's ashes are scattered in the same place, although I never knew him, so that's strange, but still, it's nice to have this quiet island in our home town where I can be with the kin that have passed.

My eldest sister is buried in Jarrow on the outskirts of Newcastle, forty miles north of here. I occasionally go up to Newcastle on my own for the day to buy records and look at some art; if I do, before I go round the city I get the Metro out to Jarrow, buy some flowers and take the walk to the cemetery, which is one of those really old, really overgrown ones, so it always feels like a special little rite to walk along the wooded paths to where she's buried. I enjoy changing the flowers and being there beside her for a while. The gravestone annoys me, as it says 'so dearly loved, so sadly missed', which was understandable at the time she died as it was unexpected, but I don't miss her with sadness, I miss her with love; there's a difference.

I don't think it's necessary to visit these places. We carry these people with us, always. But I am glad there is somewhere in the world I can be close to them and feel them. Maybe something I would have once talked to my dad about, perhaps in the future I'll go and contemplate in the remembrance garden.

I was once playing a show in Bristol very near the anniversary of my Grandfather's death, who was born, raised, died and buried there. I took my band to a pub very near the church where his ashes are buried, one I used to frequent with him, and we had a drink, and then I went off to go and pay my respects.

His ashes were buried on the grounds of one of these very large Victorian churches whose graveyards are pretty much full to the brim with the remains of 19th century slum dwellers and those who lost their lives in the Great Wars. As a consequence my Grandfather's ashes were buried somewhere near the back wall in a tiny little space with a little plaque, amongst the ashes of maybe 40 or 50 others.

It was the middle of winter, cold, raining and pitch black. There was no form of lighting whatsoever in the graveyard, and I lost the path, struggling to navigate my way through graves whilst all the while treading disrespectfully on the remains of so many others' loved ones. I did eventually find the wall at the back of the graveyard, but it was even darker than elsewhere. I had no torch, but I did have a lighter - I must have spent 20 minutes trying to find the plaque with my grandfather's name on it - to no avail. In the end I gave in, uttered a few mental apologies and left.

So my experience of trying to pay my respects ended up being a farce. I was very close to my grandfather, and I think the farcical nature of my adventure would have made him laugh. I just returned to the pub we used to drink in and toasted him there. It seemed enough. Next time I'm in Bristol, I'm taking a torch.

My grandfather is, for now, pretty much the only close person I know to have passed away ; and I didn't even know him since it was in a accident five years before I was born. The last time I went to his grave, I was quite young and don't remember very well. I was just sad and had regrets about how I would never know him.

But a much more intimate and strong experience about him and his memory was the time when I went to Troyes (Champagne, France) to see a "vitrail" (stained-glass window, is that how you call that?) he made in the late fifities, in a small chapel. His vitrail is a huge panel made of pieces of coloured glass, representing blue and green abstract movements with sometimes small red or yellow tiny shapes in it. My description is really weak, I wish I had a photo to put here but even this wouldn't show how much impressive it is. It was one of the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and when I stood in front of the vitrail, the thought that my grandfather had done it made me feel so proud and respectful toward to him, it was so vivid and touching feeling.

Oh um this story is told badly, sorry, I tried

This story was told beautifully, no need to be sorry.

I like walking through graveyards but do not go visit anyone I've known that rests in one. I guess I just feel if I need to commune with them, they are already with me. However, both of my parents and all my siblings are still alive.

my dad died about a year and a half ago and i still have no desire to see the gravesite. i just don't get any feeling that he's there in any way. it might as well be anyplace.

and yeah, grief is bizarre.

H-GM wrote:This is my second year of life without me dear ol' mater, third without pops. In all of this time I have not visited either of their gravesites. Grief is bizarre. I'm not even sure if I have grieved properly. For those of you who have lost their parents do you visit their resting places on special occasions like Mother's Day, birthdays, and the like? Does anyone find it odd for sons or daughters not to visit their parents' resting places? I loved my mom dearly, but at this point I have never felt the need to sit beside her grave weeping uncontrollably, or, updating her on what's been going on in my life. This dead-parents thing is relatively new for me. Sometimes I think that if I didn't have a framed picture of my mom in my bedroom I'd go on not remembering at times. So fucking weird.

Both of my grandparents are in cemeteries, and I can't remember a time when my mother and I ever went to 'visit' them there. I wasn't terribly close to either of them, although she was.. I just think the process of grieving is different for everyone.

My dad died just over 7 years ago and I'm still not sure how to grieve for him. Maybe there isn't a proper way, just whatever reminds you of that person and brings a smile to your face. He was a kook and I loved him for it.

We (my brother, mother and I) scattered his ashes at the top of a sand dune near a cluster of trees that are a distinct part of the landscape. This was a fitting place as went to this beach often as children and had nothing but good times. I used to go back on Father's day to visit and just sit and reflect, but haven't been in a couple years. Lately, I've been considering how there isn't a plaque or anything to mark his resting place and it makes me a little sad, so I think I will do that. Whats more, from that beach on that hill Chicago can be seen across the lake on a clear day. Kind of fitting to have a visual connection between old and new lives.

My mom's ashes are at my dad's house in North Carolina. I haven't been there since her death/funeral some months back.

I don't feel compelled to be next to her ashes. I think this stems from a number of things, primarily from knowing that she's not there, but then also from an avoidance of emotional extremes and my rickety relationship with my dad and his crew.

If I could go and visit her by myself, maybe it would be more appealing. However, when it comes to visiting my mom’s container o’ashes, there are a lot of stressors and pressures besides grief, and the grief is more than enough.

I found myself doing things for my mom after she died - things she desperately wanted but never allowed herself to do, even when I offered to pay. (Ma B thought that women are supposed to always give and never need; generosity is a good way to live your life, but I am no one's servant.)

So, I went on the trip she always talked about and kind of brought her with me. I walked around and talked to (my idea of) her. It was great because the mom of certain bad memories wasn't around, but the charming, kooky, and breathlessly enthusiastic mom was with me. I felt like I was taking care of her by taking her there, and after the nightmare of her funeral planning, I was able to recapture how fulfilling it was to take care of her in the hospital. It was ridiculously powerful.

Grief is so strange. I still don't know what to do with it and I still cry. I've had enough for one year, though, so Jehovah can fuck right off.

H-GM- I am sorry for your loss. My father died when I nine. In the 23 years since his death, I have visited both his gravesites maybe 5 times and at least 2 of those times were for other funerals (my grandmother made it her life's crusade to move my father's remains back to his hometown to be buried in a plot next to where she would eventually be buried. After 20 years my mother finally acquiesced to the move mere months before my grandmother would die). I have never felt the need to visit either place to feel close with my father and I have never felt any guilt about it. Several of my sisters put flowers on his grave a couple times a year and I think that makes them feel good. A grave holds no spiritual or religious importance to me, but if you think that visiting it may make you feel better, then by all means you should visit it to see if it does. Again, I am sorry for your loss.