Same Everywhere

I'm glad we took this photo at the cemetery. 

Keith wanted to get a lot of flowers because he wanted it to look like more than just us had been there.  We went to Home Depot and got pots of beautiful blooms.  We filled one of our big Easter baskets with marigolds--bright orange ones just for Ian.  My parents sent the ceramic bird's nest back with us from Utah so that they could show their love on Memorial Day.  The rock is from a hike on the hill behind Grandpa's house.  It's got rings that circle it almost like a tree.

We put everything on the grave on Saturday.   Went back Sunday and Monday.  It looked perfect.  The cemetery removes flowers after 10 days, so I went to get everything today so we could plant them in the yard and always keep the nest.  All gone.  Just the rock is left. 

I've been watching my parents deal with people stealing things off my brother's grave for over 35 years.  I guess it happens everywhere.  It still hurt.  A lot.  I have to say, people who steal from a grave are just evil.  I'd say ignorant, but that's just not it.  It's evil.  I won't ever forget the year we went to Stan's grave for Christmas to decorate the blue spruce my mom had been nursing along for a decade or so.  Somebody cut it down.  Good place to get a free Christmas tree, huh?  They didn't even take the whole thing--probably measured for the ceiling height.

Like I said,  I'm glad we took the photo.   Maybe what the tombstone should say is   "Please don't steal my Flowers!"