Charles Lawrence wants a final resting place for his mother where he can adorn her headstone any time or with any memento he pleases.

“I want to put flowers on her grave, or maybe a rose,” Lawrence said. “My mother always liked live roses.”

For Lawrence, 64, there’s no better place than home to inter his mother, who died in March and was buried at a church cemetery. The retired Army sergeant plans to have his mother’s body moved next to his Dana Road home, and transform about an acre of his own land to make it happen — even if it makes selling the property a bit more difficult for his heirs.

“I’m going to call it Lawrence Memorial Gardens,” he said. “I have my son, three siblings in Warren County, and two of my four grandchildren. When the family goes, you can have them all in one spot. When birthdays and holidays come, you have them all right here.”

Last month, Lawrence successfully petitioned the Warren County Board of Supervisors to convert to a burial ground what otherwise would be a farm for his persimmon and banana trees to a burial ground. Mississippi law allows counties to establish or designate private family cemeteries to be located in the county if petitioned by a person or group.

The process involves a legal review to make sure it’s on property owned by the petitioner and, at times, at least a visual inspection by county engineers. Part of the law prohibits cemeteries within 500 yards of a hospital without county board consent. Restrictions common in commercial cemeteries, such as how graves are adorned, are non-existent. Keeping it away from roads or cliffs might be the best advice, Board President Bill Lauderdale said.

“They’re scattered all over the county, those family cemeteries,” Lauderdale said. “We just ask people employ common sense,” Lauderdale said. “You know, things like not building in an area that floods a lot, those things.”

Currently, 100 for-profit cemeteries are registered with the state, said Pamela Weaver, spokeswoman for Secretary of State Delbert Hosemann, whose office enforces the state’s preneed cemetery law. Family burial grounds aren’t registered with the state, nor are government-owned and operated cemeteries, church cemeteries, community cemeteries or fraternal cemeteries, Weaver said.

Lawrence settled on a 400-pound, blue granite headstone from a company in Georgia for his mother, with the all-caps inscription, “Gone but not forgotten.” The $1,600 stone was cheaper than prices he saw in-state; the $8,000 or so saved when he decided against a conventional burial was already in mind, he said.

Burying loved ones “at home” carries a mixed bag of risks, said Charles Riles, owner of Riles Funeral Home.

“In the old days, if grandma died, you could just corner off that part of the property,” Riles said. “But, what if you want to sell the land?”

“I do see the change of burial customs, though. Who knew we’d be doing all these cremations now in Mississippi?” Riles asked, referring to 19 crematories operating in the state.

Not all cemeteries on private land are “family” burial grounds. Some are discovered by accident, like the 10 headstones the Easts discovered about 35 years ago in what became the backyard of their home on Nailor Road.

“It was so grown up around here, you couldn’t see what was here,” said Sara East, who was as surprised as her husband, Larry, about 35 years ago when they found headstones and tombs amid the brush they cleared to form their backyard.

Eight headstones and two underground tombs make up the burial garden they found, known in local historian circles as Warnock Cemetery. A stone split in two pieces marks where David Warnock, believed to be patriarch of the family, was buried after his death on Valentine’s Day in 1840. His wife, Catherine, and sons John Madison, Joseph W., James Alexander and Benjamin Franklin, are among those interred there.

“It was a family that left the city (of Vicksburg) after a yellow fever epidemic,” said Larry East. “They settled here afterward.”

Between mowing the grass and gluing a few stones back together, the sight of graves next to their gazebo and swimming pool — when they still had it — was scary for the Easts’ friends and visitors.

“Our bricklayer for the house would not get out here after dark,” Larry said. “Our three sons’ friends would all tell ghost stories.”

The Easts say the solemn sight of graves in their yard in unique, but a labor of love all the same.

“We just try to keep the grass cut and keep it clean,” Sara East said.