When my Father z"l died there were fewer rules. We, two of us, went to the grave-site on that hot July afternoon and, did what we do....buried him. Fast forward twenty-seven years and there have been changes. No longer are mourners allowed at the burial site until the grave is covered. Or, those are the rules.
We, our son Aaron and I, traveled eight hours to conclude our duty to my Mother and his Grandmother. It's the thing we do. When we were told on arrival that was not possible, rules you know, it was a disappointment. In this tradition doing the burial also...brings some closure.
It was cold...and gray and every so often what is called "lake-effect" snow fell. Sometimes so dense we couldn't see across the road. The weather added nothing positive to the moment. One of the "seasoned" workers at the cemetery noticed our disappointment and said, "Follow me. We'll make that happen for your Mother."
It was the kindest of all things a person could have said. We will always be grateful.
And...so it goes...