Saying Goodbye...

The boys and I (Phil) arrived at the viewing of their father around midnight.  In Ecuador embalming is rare, so the body was viewed through a sealed Plexiglas covering.  There was wailing and drinking and general chaos,...and also welcoming arms and comforting words from family members, many of whom the boys had never met.  People expressed genuine gratefulness that we had come.  At 3:00 AM the boys' grandmother insisted we eat the dinner she had made, then we slept for a few hours. 

Around 9:00 AM we returned to accompany the casket and body from the grandmother's house to the church in the center of town.  When we arrived, the church wasn't open yet, so the casket was placed on the ground out front.  We waited for the nun to arrive and facilitate the religious ceremony.  Then the funeral procession began to the town cemetery with increased sounds of wailing. We walked down the center of the muddy street, blocking traffic and causing as much commotion as possible.  This was their brother, father, son and friend's final "walk," and it was important that even strangers honor the deceased.

After several blocks the procession entered a cemetery that was a maze of disorganization. We climbed over tombstones and clambered along unknown trails. The intensity of grief became overwhelming.  Two ladies fainted and family members attempted to revive them by blowing cigarette smoke in their faces and shaking them to consciousness.  A sister screamed and hung on to the casket while others forcibly pulled her back.  Everyone just accepted these displays of grief without question.  The "final goodbye" took more than an hour as each person viewed again the face of their loved one through the Plexiglas cover. 

The oldest of the boys has a difficult time expressing his emotions.  The Christian psychologist who provides counseling for the Casa G boys gave me the suggestion that if he wanted, he could write a letter to his dad.  At the final goodbye, he pushed his folded letter into the casket through a broken place in the Plexiglas.  After more hugs and more tears, we started back to Quito. 

I am so thankful I was able to be with the boys.  I am so thankful to see the healing begin as the three brothers walked through this together.  I was also very grateful for Juan Miguel who kept me awake while I drove, comforted the boys, and even took a turn at carrying the casket.  Thank you for your prayers. 

(The family appreciated that I took pictures for the boys to remember them and the event.  Above, one of the boys writes his father a letter.  Below, he comforts his little brother.  They gave me permission to share some of their story and pictures.)