Don't Forget to Write

The Wake

I stood in line in front of my sister and mother behind my father's open casket. The caretaker powdered his face to make it look like the skin wasn't so pale, not so dead like it was in the hospital room. Family members, some of whom I hadn't seen in years, knelt down in front of the casket, bowed their head, and closed their eyes for a few moments. Maybe they were praying. Maybe they were recalling a moment shared with the man in the casket. Most likely, though, they just had their eyes closed and weren't thinking about anything other than the fact that this what you were supposed to do in front of a corpse; kneel and close your eyes and look pensive for a few seconds. Then they would stand up and let out a heavy sigh. They'd stare at my forehead as they walked up to me, wondering about my scar. I'd grown so accustomed to constantly wearing a beanie in the cold weather that I almost forgot I had the scar. Then they shook my hand, sometimes they'd say a sentence like "sorry for your loss," or, "my condolences." Whenever someone said "I'm sorry," I wanted to grab them and say, "wait, you did this?" But I don't think they would have found it as funny as I thought it was.

A few heavyset men with darkly tanned skin and ruddy faces came through after the family members. These men kept a straight face and held eye contact. They didn't attempt to make me feel better, they just kept that straight lip and those strong eyes as they looked at me. When I shook their hand, they had those big rough mitts for hands, just like my dad. "I worked with you father. Good man," they'd say, in English or Portuguese. At one point Moose, Bruno, and Karen all came in to pay their respects. Even Sammy came, even though I hadn't seen him in over a month. He pulled me in, with his long strong arms, and hugged me so tight I nearly lost my breath, but somehow it was just as gentle as it was strong. "It gets bettah. It nevah stops herting, but it gets bettah," he said in his thick accent, and I actually believed him. Something about the way he said it let me know that he was speaking from experience. None of them had ever even met my dad, they were just there for support and to remind me how lucky we are to be able to choose our friends. I had chosen right for most of my life, and it showed, as friends from childhood came pouring in from far-away places. There was a whirlwind of emotion each time one of them hugged me as memories from as far back as I could remember came back to mind. Here was Jack, I'd known him since we could speak, we used to be little nerds played Yu-Gi-Oh cards and going to G&T classes. Here was Mike, whose house I had practically lived in. Eric, with whom I shared many matching scars. Jose, Zach, Liam, Armando, Alex, Brian, Joe, Peach, Zeno, Nick, the list went on. It was both joyously refreshing and emotionally exhausting to see so many people I cared about.

For hours I kept a straight face plastered as people said their condolences. At the end, I gave the eulogy, because my mother had asked me to. It was a short recap of his life, from his childhood as an impoverished farmer living with his aunt in Portugal, to the marriage between him and my mother, his life as an immigrant construction worker in the United States, and his role as a father. I thanked him for giving me a fighting chance through his immigration. Because of his hardships, I was able to have a life as a United States Citizen, a gift with immense value that I seemed to understand and respect more the older I got.

I finished with a bible verse that I knew he liked, because it was on the back of his brothers Mass card years ago. Psalm 23. "The lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of the righteousness for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou prepareth a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: though anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the day of my life: I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever".

We closed the casket and covered it in a long white cloth, then left the funeral home.