One of my infrequent absences was to attend the funeral of my mother, who died on 7 June. For the third time in half a year, I heard the Requiem service chanted for one of my own family, and for the third time walked through the fields of the cemetery of Saint-Geneviève-des-Bois, Montlhéry, on the road to Orléans, and dropped a handful of dirt in an open grave.