Rosa laying roses on Alfie’s grave. When we arrived at the cemetery, it was a shock to know that Alfie, who took his own life at age 14, was under the cracked parched earth, and that his grave was untended–as if someone so vibrant and energetic and fun had suddenly been swallowed up by the earth. And no matter how strong his presence here, he was gone forever. There was something cathartic about decorating it with roses and flowers and photographs–a way to say I care and also eerie. Could he hear us talking to him or were we just whispering to the wind?