Why is Porter's story entitled "The Grave"?

The title of Katherine Anne Porter’s story “The Grave” at first glance seems to be something of a misnomer. The story, contrary to the singular implication of the title, is full of graves. There is the grave of Miranda and Paul’s grandfather, on which the story opens. That single grave has been joined over the years by other members of the family in a cemetery plot on the family farm. At the time the story takes place, however, all of the bodies have been removed to the public cemetery, leaving behind in their places nothing but “just a hole in the ground.” (Though, even empty, two of them yield treasures: a small hollow-breasted silver dove and a gold ring.)
Later on, there is the tragic and faintly gruesome grave of the unborn baby rabbits—the doe’s body, into which Paul replaces them after Miranda becomes distressed. The doe herself is presumably subsequently buried when Paul takes her away into the bushes.
But this is a story full of echoes and repeated imagery, and these are just shadows of the true grave—that of the memory of the rabbits. As Porter writes of Miranda, the memory “sank quietly into her mind and was heaped over by accumulated thousands of impressions.” Just like the graves of her grandfather and family members, the memory lay undisturbed for years, until the chance trigger of animal-shaped sweets upon a tray in a foreign marketplace. And like the hollow graves that begin the story, this metaphorical grave has a small treasure in it: the memory of her brother’s face as it was when he was a child.