My mother was born on Christmas Day, and thus was named Carole. She was always proud of her birthday being that day, so it seemed disappointing when her burial site turned out to be a cold, rules-bidden mausoleum. It's a place that doesn't permit living flowers or plants. Its markers allow no indication of dates, only the years of birth and death.
My sister Lisa came to the rescue, and purchased a 'paver stone' that commemorates our mother's dates -- and, probably to our mother's liking, rectifies the fact that she was only a youthful-sounding 81 when she died, and not the ancient-sounding 82.
Today, Lisa and I, in company of many of Lisa's friends, attended a lovely ceremony at Hemlock Bluffs Nature Preserve where the memorial paver had been installed. The park was a place our mother had enjoyed visiting in life. Hopefully, her spirit now rests more peacefully among the trees and garden there.