Here's a few things I'll toss in:

1. Back when I set tombstones it wasn't a big deal in the cemeteries. Sure, it could be hotter'n...blazes...but overall it was a nice, quite job. And talking to the people I met was nice; they were curious about the work. There was no feeling of "haunting" or "creepiness." Except in one: the Jewish cemetery in town. THERE both my brother (who followed me in the job) and I felt a definite senses of "finish up and get out because you don't belong here." Apart from that there was nothing at all different between that cemetery and many others.

2. When my mother died, my youngest brother was with her. He knew she'd gone before the nurses noticed the instruments and he met my brother and sister coming from the "waiting room" area because they, too, knew Mom was gone. But here's the odd part: I was living in Ohio, a 14 hour drive away, and I awakened and told my wife that Mom was dead before the phone call came. And no, it's not a case of post hoc rememberance for we remarked on it at the time; in fact, I said to my brother who called, "Yes, I know." For some reason this has never surprised us.