I've not spent a lot of time in cemetaries. Although I've lost my share of loved ones, I rarely/never visit graves, and I've never had any great preoccupation with hanging out in cemetaries.

Yesterday, we interred my brother Brian's ashes in the Hankinson Family Plot. Next to my Grandmother and Grandfather.

Standing there, looking around the snow covered hills amongst thousands of gravestones, completely renewed my desire to be cremated. I can't bear the thought of being buried.

But, it also gave me a feeling of peace. Knowing I was standing near my Grandparents, and even great-Grandparents (who I never met). And, knowing my brother's remains would be at rest here.

And even if I never go there, it's nice to know where he is.