First visit
Cemeteries are kinda weird, I have to admit.
I went on my own for the first time today. At first I was just clearing dead flowers and other debris, and trying not to freak out while doing so because I saw a HUMONGOUS centipede-like bug crawling around one of the flower pots. I don't think me screaming around a peaceful cemetery would be appreciated one bit. Then once I refilled the pots with water, I realized my flower stems were too long. By the time I got everything settled and arranged, I was hot and sweaty, because the plot is out on the open--not under shade.
But when I could find a calm state of mind, I just felt...out of place, to be honest. Like I'm too young to be out there. I was unsure whether to sit down or stay standing, since for some reason I had this paranoid thought that a caretaker would approach me and say, sorry miss, that's not allowed. When I looked around, though, it was just me--and the pot of flowers marking my Dad's remains. What does one do at graves? Talk? Pray? Think? Meditate? Oh, I know there's no "proper" thing to do, but it's very strange for me to think that by going to this patch of dirt/grass, I'm symbolically "visiting" my Dad--that I'm hanging out with him.
On the bus ride back home, though, I realized that in a way, it doesn't really matter what you do there. What matters is the time and effort you set aside to actually make that visit--like you would normally do if your loved one was still around.