Back in 2008, while on a trip to Italy with the Italian side of my family, my aunt Tina, named for Bautistina Mutsichelli, dragged us to every cemetery from Genoa to Venice. What was at first an annoying detour has become a lifelong joy.
Venice’s cemetery is on the island of San Michele between Venice proper and the Island of Murano, where all the Venetian glass is made. In the midst of boisterous international travel, I can still recall that afternoon as one of the most peaceful of my life.
Cemeteries encompass us in a pocket of peace. The din of cars and the chatter of idle talk fall away. Cemeteries are quiet—not just in their lack of noise, but in their creation of an environment that shields us from the assaults of the world. The stability of the trees and the stillness of the tombs slow things down—we can feel our heart rate drop.
