Tears From Heaven

I wrote the following description right after attending the funeral of 12 year old Karen who died of bone cancer:

We drove solemnly up the windy road, climbing the hill outside the city. Humble homes were stacked on the hillsides and vegetation dripped down the sides of the cliffs. Soon we joined the crowd of mourners standing in the muddy streets all around Karen’s house. We were ushered inside the tiny living room where the small black coffin sat, covered with flowers. The coffin was so small, coffins should not be that small. A life ended too soon.

Karen’s older sister clung to the coffin, wailing in grief. Karen’s mother entered the room, her face puffy from crying. Fresh tears streamed down her face when she saw our small group from the hospital. I held her tight and we both sobbed for the loss of her 12 year old daughter. She thanked us over and over for all that was done at the hospital to treat Karen’s bone cancer. She said that in Karen’s last days, when the cancer that had metastasized to her lungs made breathing difficult, she begged her family to take her back to Loma de Luz hospital, to her doctor. We wept fresh tears.

There were prayers and songs and tears. Then the long wake to the cemetery. Hordes of students came. There were children weeping everywhere, crying out for their beloved classmate. So young for such pain and grief. The coffin was so small…

As they prepared to place the coffin inside the tomb, Karen’s mother threw herself on the coffin, screaming, “ I want to touch her one more time! Just one more time, my baby!”. Karen’s sister fainted, her brother collapsed to his knees in tears. Off to the left there was a young voice crying out, “I miss her so much! I miss my friend!” I looked over to see a young boy in his blue and white school uniform, clutching his mother, tears streaming down his face. I scanned the crowd of mourners as the rain began to fall gently. There was not a dry eye in the crowd. Soon raindrops were mingling with the tears streaming down people’s faces. It was as if even the heavens were grieving the loss of this young life.

This funeral was so sad, but I’m very glad I chose to attend. It was very different from funerals in the States. In Latin culture there is no one telling you, “hush, don’t cry” or “be strong” or “it will be OK”. There is no one expecting you to “hold it together”. Latinos cry and wail and lament the loss in very physical ways. They actually let their emotions out and I think they grieve in a healthier way than we do. In the midst of grieving the loss of their little girl, this family was also praising God for the life Karen had lived and the lives she had touched. They wailed and screamed that they wanted her back, yet they said prayers of thanksgiving that she was happy with her Lord, her suffering was over. They thanked God that someday they would see her again in heaven, happy and whole, smiling beside her Savior.