I had a favourite aunt, lived 1887-1961. She is buried with my grandmother, 1890-1975, and my grandfather, 1893-ca. 1981. Going there brings back vague but fond memories.
Two plots away is my father, 1920-1965. I am sorely tempted to spit or piss over there. We did not have a good relationship.
My mother’s ashes are in a burgundy cloisonné urn on a book shelf in my living room. She fits in with decor so she stays there. Been there since 2005. A gentle reminder of what a wonderful person she was but a more permanent solution must be found. She absolutely refused to be interred with her husband, but I don’t remember if she wanted to be scattered anywhere.
My sister‘s cremains were scattered into the Atlantic. All told, she probable should have been scattered over the Rockies. Sigh.
One godfather had his cremains placed in a church memorial garden on my 45th birthday. His partner of 21 years is also there. I hope a few donations to the church will allow my Remains to be interred there, as I am not a member.