I often visit cemeteries. I walk amongst the gravestones and read the names of those who’ve passed, noting their age when it happened and whether it was recent or long ago. I think about what their lives might have been like, influenced by the message engraved on the stone and whether there are freshly-cut or wilting flowers laid nearby. I go into their homes with them, in my mind, and see that they’re surrounded by family. As I create an imagined life for the deceased, it’s as if their souls rise up from the ground and permeate the air around the cemetery. When we think of the dead, they live on.