I do not like to participate in funerals, I refuse. I've always seen in novels and movies to people sober and sad, but the last two times I've gone to a family funeral I've been wanting to mourn. I try to meet the quota of respect relevant to the case, circumspect face, black clothes, practicing in various shades "my condolences" and no "congratulations" (I've seen cases), but at that moment I was speechless. Get serious, I hug my good sense, but something always happens ...
Arriving at the chapel wake first thing I saw was everyone relaxed, drinking tea, coffee, sandwich eating, greeting and talking up a storm. I said, "Good" and almost nobody knew who I was, thanks to my older brothers was that they made their own. Some would say, Irvin, Darwin, other Willmer or Henry, and that's when my mother asked why I named Juan or Ramon. I stepped very indifferent to greet the closest mourners, was the most sincere and heartfelt moment. One of the most special things in these hard times is the familar reunion, always exceptions. Over there sat an old guy who has a reputation for sadicón, kept looking, kissing and groping her well contoured nieces, another-more daring, to each while he went to the car to get out a bottle of whiskey , a more veteran was in a tearing at the bench as you traverse familiar with his sharp tongue. Never lacking this unknown person who cries and screams and kicks, but when you cell phone rings you run out reality show, assisting with seductive voice. Nor need a premium morbid (Alfred Hitchcock fanatic) it forces you to see the body, although not resist, a few cousins \u200b\u200bwho believe the pit of the cheese because they now have money, who boast of what they are and what are not, and others are more legitimate heirs of our name, words, multicolor, humble, funny, witty ...
I remember when my grandmother died a cousin of professional stylist (I think everyone has one, but I think that is as unique as mine) spent more than an hour disguising it as if it were a beauty contest, using different brushes, a palette of shadows, and when my aunts were, were shocked, they took the patuque and even withdrew the professional speech make up for their insult fashionista. Also I recall when a guy died and mourned by a liquor-big mistake-at the funeral were 10 mourners and the clearance ethyl singing rancheras over 30. Ay Jalisco not give in!
When the other grandmother died, I remember one of her sisters (a great aunt of a very strong, old lady, half lame, very gray, and mischievous) was at lunch, crying and muttering at the same time. Just walked through the door a lady who was 10 000 Bs (10 Bs.F. today) left to mourn, got up, threw the food on the floor, charged him in front of everyone, insulted, pushed and the bounced from home to blows, then sat down and went begging as if nothing had happened. Shame that it had not been overcome, but a cousin had been 6 years in possession of a razor-sharp little voice (which was tickling the eardrum) that could not read, that in its short life never had prayed, and became an echo of the ends of each uttered the Donita litany that praying the rosary. The boy with his hands clasped at chest height, one eye closed and one could open a kind of counterpoint: "Madam
Hail Mary.
-Child: "laugh."
-Lady: full of grace.
-Child: "acia.
-Lady: The Lord is with thee.
-Child: "tigo."
-Lady, Blessed art thou among women.
-Child "are." Using
Mrs. mislead thousands of times, stunning the audience with his unique falsetto and triggered a community laughter. Nor I can forget that right in the funeral of my grandmother, my mother seemed in pistachio ice cream cone and my uncle (journalist finally) bought a disposable camera to photograph a close (close up) the body of his mother. What an idea! All these situations led to the most forbidden and unforgivable laughter, some of which could not hide and I hide theatrically others with a kind of cough, covering my mouth and saliéndome of burial. However, tears are always in my eyes been slowed by these events as unlikely, hilarious and uncommon in other families, movies and novels. The next time will avoid going to a cemetery and see if staying at home, I will want to vent and get in touch with my true feelings without anyone or anything distract me and make me pass by unnoticed as important stage in the cycle of our lives.
Arriving at the chapel wake first thing I saw was everyone relaxed, drinking tea, coffee, sandwich eating, greeting and talking up a storm. I said, "Good" and almost nobody knew who I was, thanks to my older brothers was that they made their own. Some would say, Irvin, Darwin, other Willmer or Henry, and that's when my mother asked why I named Juan or Ramon. I stepped very indifferent to greet the closest mourners, was the most sincere and heartfelt moment. One of the most special things in these hard times is the familar reunion, always exceptions. Over there sat an old guy who has a reputation for sadicón, kept looking, kissing and groping her well contoured nieces, another-more daring, to each while he went to the car to get out a bottle of whiskey , a more veteran was in a tearing at the bench as you traverse familiar with his sharp tongue. Never lacking this unknown person who cries and screams and kicks, but when you cell phone rings you run out reality show, assisting with seductive voice. Nor need a premium morbid (Alfred Hitchcock fanatic) it forces you to see the body, although not resist, a few cousins \u200b\u200bwho believe the pit of the cheese because they now have money, who boast of what they are and what are not, and others are more legitimate heirs of our name, words, multicolor, humble, funny, witty ...
I remember when my grandmother died a cousin of professional stylist (I think everyone has one, but I think that is as unique as mine) spent more than an hour disguising it as if it were a beauty contest, using different brushes, a palette of shadows, and when my aunts were, were shocked, they took the patuque and even withdrew the professional speech make up for their insult fashionista. Also I recall when a guy died and mourned by a liquor-big mistake-at the funeral were 10 mourners and the clearance ethyl singing rancheras over 30. Ay Jalisco not give in!
When the other grandmother died, I remember one of her sisters (a great aunt of a very strong, old lady, half lame, very gray, and mischievous) was at lunch, crying and muttering at the same time. Just walked through the door a lady who was 10 000 Bs (10 Bs.F. today) left to mourn, got up, threw the food on the floor, charged him in front of everyone, insulted, pushed and the bounced from home to blows, then sat down and went begging as if nothing had happened. Shame that it had not been overcome, but a cousin had been 6 years in possession of a razor-sharp little voice (which was tickling the eardrum) that could not read, that in its short life never had prayed, and became an echo of the ends of each uttered the Donita litany that praying the rosary. The boy with his hands clasped at chest height, one eye closed and one could open a kind of counterpoint: "Madam
Hail Mary.
-Child: "laugh."
-Lady: full of grace.
-Child: "acia.
-Lady: The Lord is with thee.
-Child: "tigo."
-Lady, Blessed art thou among women.
-Child "are." Using
Mrs. mislead thousands of times, stunning the audience with his unique falsetto and triggered a community laughter. Nor I can forget that right in the funeral of my grandmother, my mother seemed in pistachio ice cream cone and my uncle (journalist finally) bought a disposable camera to photograph a close (close up) the body of his mother. What an idea! All these situations led to the most forbidden and unforgivable laughter, some of which could not hide and I hide theatrically others with a kind of cough, covering my mouth and saliéndome of burial. However, tears are always in my eyes been slowed by these events as unlikely, hilarious and uncommon in other families, movies and novels. The next time will avoid going to a cemetery and see if staying at home, I will want to vent and get in touch with my true feelings without anyone or anything distract me and make me pass by unnoticed as important stage in the cycle of our lives.
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