I am not the sort of tourist who makes it a practice to visit cemeteries during my travels. I know some people enjoy haunting the final resting places of the famous, but I do not. Frankly, I don't see the appeal of wasting my life visiting the dead.
The only other time I willingly visited a cemetery was on my recent visit to Austria.
Later, I found out that the graves are tended by local families. They decorate them with candles, fir branches, and flowers. Pansies are the most popular flower, because their name means "thoughts." I wondered if the pansies littering Maria's grave had had something to do with my thoughts that day. Perhaps my thoughts allowed Maria to live once more, if only for a moment. Did she flitter around me, unseen? Was that the gentle breeze that blew over my cheeks as I turned to walk away?