Death as a Reflection of Culture

We found out last night that a good friend's dad passed away and that the candle vigil, the mass, and the wake would all be held today (Sunday). This meant completely clearing our schedules to make sure that we could be there to support him and his family.

Death has always been a hard subject for me to talk about and deal with (as I'm sure it is for most people). However, the way death is handled is a very cultural thing and that is what I want to touch on here. I'm not going to dwell on death or dying, but examine the way in which it is handled by this specific mestizo family in Cuenca.

We picked up a couple of Arturo's friends around 9:30 and headed to a funeral home and cemetery that lies on the outskirts of town to attend the candle vigil. Candle vigils are common in many Christian cultures and is nothing out of the ordinary. However, I have not been to a vigil since I was young, and although I did not personally know the person who passed, it is difficult for one to sit and watch the suffer. As in most Western cultures death here was met with weeping individuals dressed in black clothing, white flowers (including roses and white lilies), organ only church hymns played through speakers in a sanitary looking room with chairs for the mourners, a photo of the deceased, and the box where his cremated remains where held.

We stayed for a while and then left to take a break from the grief, tears, and overall gloominess that generally accompanies such an event. Then we went home and got ready to go back for the actual Mass (misa). This was a very interesting event for me. I have been to regular Masses before, but never to a Mass for a funeral. There were many standard prayers said, many passages from the Bible read, and lots of standing and sitting. The one thing that caught my attention was that no one got up and said anything about the deceased. No memories were shared about this individual's life.

Then the box of ashes was picked up and carried to a hole in a marble wall that would be the final resting place for this individual. The box was placed in and the 3x3 marble tomb was sealed by the tombstone. Arturo and I didn't go down to watch them seal the tomb. It was all a bit too depressing for me (and everyone knows that being 9 months pregnant I need no help when it comes to being emotional!).

After all of this was over it really hit me that someone lives for 66 years and we commemorate this entire time as a group by sitting in a room staring at a box of ashes for as long as we deem culturally appropriate, reading from a book and listening to someone who didn't know this person talk for 60 minutes...

I'm not saying it's good or bad, that there is a right way and a wrong way to commemorate someone's life. But this yesterday's experience really made me start thinking about what if I were to die soon and had nothing in writing? What would people do for me? What would my "wake" be like? I have fully decided that when I die I do not want any of this experience that I had yesterday. It is depressing and sad. I have no desire for people to sit in a sanitary room with sad music playing while they cry. So, in a very public way I am informing everyone that this is NOT how I want to be remembered. I would rather have people celebrate my life. My life has been (and continues to be) colorful... colorful people, colorful places, colorful experiences... So why, in death, should we not remember someone as they were in life?

When I die I want everyone to enjoy good bottles of wine, fancy cocktails, great food, and lively music! People should share stories about the good times we had together. Laugh, smile, and know that I lived a wonderful life and have no regrets! Although it is sad that someone is gone should we not celebrate and remember the time we were fortunate enough to have with them, not dwell is the sadness of loss? I know, it's easier said than done, but it sounds like an excellent option to me...