Call me a big time cynic, one thing I’ve come to believe in death is no one really cares, once you are dead in a short amount of time you are fogotten.
My father died in 1993, 30 years ago, how many times have I visited his grave ?? I can count the time on one hand. The Cemetery is 2 hours away from where I live.
In May of 2020, my mother died and is buried next to him, how many times have I visited her grave ?? ZERO.
Funerals are for the living, once you are gone, it’s over and life moves on.
I miss both of them all the time, but they aren’t coming back.
That’s why my plan is to be cremated and my ashes are to be thrown into the nearest body of water where I live, pond, river, ocean, etc..
I visit my parents grave about once a year. I’m closer than you at 2 hours away. Less than an hour away for me. My sister never visits or extremely rarely. I go to reflect and meditate and also to check on the condition of the marker. You are right in that once I’m gone no one will visit or remember much. It’s just the way things are.
I’ll raise you one...
When I was a teacher, I used to ask my students if they remembered their grandparents—most, if not all, did.
Then I’d ask if they remembered their great grandparents—still quite a few hands went up.
Then I’d ask if they remembered their great, great grandparents - virtually no hands went up.
I concluded my little experiment by saying that, unless you do something historic, or leave something like a book behind, it will take about 4 generations before there will not be a single person on this earth that will have ever known you existed.
“Gather, ye, rosebuds while ye may...”