Our backyard has two gardens by the back patio. They were originally vegetable gardens, eight feet by 2.5 feet. After we slaved over them, and bound them in with wood ties, and mounded up the dirt, we stood back to survey our work, and said, "Damn! We just built graves!" Often we refer to them as the S______ graves.
Since the were first dug, they have gone from vegetable garden, to tomato garden, to miniature rock garden, to cutting garden, to whatever grows garden.
This evening as I was digging a hole for the transplanted Sedum fortified by Dad's cremains, and tilling Mom into the hole, it struck me I was essentially burying Mom and Dad. In a Hole. In the Dirt. In a Grave.
Why this basic flaw in the plan didn't strike me before is beyond me. Now I want to take the remaining third of her and shoot her into space or seed a cloud with her.