The other day Michael, Elizabeth, Babushka, and I took Josie over to the cemetery where my father and many other relatives are buried. I know that people overdo this sort of thing, but I was interested to note how as we approached my dad's grave she became excited, and as soon as we got there she started rolling all over the grass contentedly. It was a good visit - we sang "Christ is Risen" together, went around to other aunts' and uncles' graves, and that of my grandmother. Then we fed Josie next to the car in the shade, and drove home. Josie seemed to agree with all of us that cemeteries can be a really nice place to be.
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