One of my lovely memories from childhood is that of accompanying my grandmother to the cemetery where her parents are buried. It was a weekly habit of hers to clip a variety of flowers from her garden and then head to the cemetery. Besides a water-filled bucket of colorful blooms, she would take hand clippers, garden gloves, a small whisk broom, a plastic milk bottle filled with water (for cleaning the grave)...and me. Accompanying her to the cemetery was something I LOVED doing.

Now, as an adult, I still love cemeteries. They are beautiful, tranquil places.

One of my lovely memories from childhood is that of accompanying my grandmother to the cemetery where her parents are buried. It was a weekly habit of hers to clip a variety of flowers from her garden and then head to the cemetery. Besides a water-filled bucket of colorful blooms, she would take hand clippers, garden gloves, a small whisk broom, a plastic milk bottle filled with water (for cleaning the grave)...and me. Accompanying her to the cemetery was something I LOVED doing.

Now, as an adult, I still love cemeteries. They are beautiful, tranquil places.