I’ve always loved walking around in cemeteries, not because I’m really that goth, but because they are carefully designed to be places of rest. They are also places of misrecognition. You are never sure how the dead are being remembered, or misremembered. As a queer and trans person, I’m always aware that gravestones may not say the right name, or place the person with the right family. You’d be surprised how many headstones just say “Mom” and “Dad.”