This may be grim humor for some. I apologize.
Lessons learned in a cemetery...
1. Do NOT take my overly-analytical husband with me to the cemetery for a peaceful trip to plant flowers for my dead son. My overly-analytical husband will bombard me with questions about cemetery operations and the logistics of burying a dead body. Is the coffin in concrete? Can you leave the plants that you plant or do you have to remove them? I finally told him to go find Dana (the cemetery sexton) and ask him.
2. Do not let my three-year-old son have a shovel (even hand-sized) anywhere near a cemetery. I seriously thought we were going to turn around and find he'd dug someone up.
3. Do visit my son's grave as much as I feel I want to. Who gives a hoot whether people think I'm obsessed. This is a time to grieve and it's up to me to decide what's right for me.
4. When planting flowers on a new gravesite, do expect the ground to be very difficult to dig up. My suggestion is to take a very big shovel and turn the earth a few times before planting. For reasons #1 & #2, do not take said overly-analytical husband, three-year-old son, and hand shovel.
5. Do take tissues. No matter what I feel like when I first arrive, leaving will make me cry every time.
6. White petunias are beautiful.