We buried my mother in the same grave as her mother.
The funeral was bloody awful. Not least because we had to sit on my father's head until the ambulance came and took him to the psych ward.
It was a great relief, quite frankly, though I'm very glad my mother didn't see it. The funeral was a catalyst of course but it would've happened sooner or later anyways.
I'm very much looking forward to the calming affects of walkies on Friday.