Graveyards, gravestones

When I lived in Valencia some years ago I went to visit a ghost village cleared thirty years or so previously for the construction of a nearby reservoir. It was very derelict with ceilings and upper floors fallen in and rubble filling up the streets. I found, and still have, a couple of decorative tiles found in a stack in one house. Outside the village was the local cemetery. All of the graves had been smashed to pieces. It was pretty unsettling. I picked up a couple of pieces with some kind of idea that I would give them a better home. The main piece of stone has the following lettering visible: ‘Luis’, ’1915′, ‘…ARIA’ and, inscribed much more roughly, as if by an amateur, ‘Maria’. I find that latter addition very moving, but I feel increasingly uncomfortable about removing it from its home, however derelict that home was. I hope someday to return it.