The Funeral

The funeral of Ken Goates was held at the Nuevo Posado at six in the evening on Valentine's Day. Ken lived here for seventeen years. I didn't know him. My friend Anita and I were invited to attend by his two sons, Carl and Kevin. Neither of the boys had spent much time here. I think their spirits were lifted by seeing how peaceful and beautiful it is here. They said that for years they had been trying to get their father to go back to the States because they worried about him. But he always refused. On this trip they finally understood why he stayed here.

He was in his early eighties when he passed away. There were photos of him with his friends and family. He looked happy. I would bet that he had a good life here. Many of his friends were at the funeral.

The Mariachi Band played some songs. Kevin and Carl talked about their father and thanked his friends for the Mexican family he had adopted through the years. They spoke in English and Mike, the restaurant owner, interpreted in Spanish.

It was relaxed and casual. I started to cry when Tito, one of the Mariachi members, sang Ave Maria. Another person's sorrow always brings back memories of my own. After a certain age I think we all carry around a reservoir of grief for our own lost loved ones.

We all walked the half block to the lake. A boat was waiting for them. The two sons got into it with the maid, Maria, who took care of Ken for the last years of his life and Tito and a few other close friends. Tito sang and played the guitar as they went out on the lake and scattered the ashes. The sun was setting. It was one of the most beautiful and moving experiences I have had around death and funerals. I would like to go like that. David, my son, if you read this post, please remember this wish of mine.

Then everyone went back to the restaurant and the Mariachis serenaded us for awhile longer. Food and drinks all around. I felt privileged to have been asked to be a part of the ceremony. Thank you Kevin and Carl.

As I was leaving the restaurant, Carl hugged me warmly and said, I hope you decide to stay here in Mexico. I knew then that he had changed his mind completely about his dad living here all those years. He had been the most worried about his dad. His change of heart reenforced to me that I must always do what is important to me, no matter what others say. Even those who love me the most do not know ultimately what is best for me. Only my heart knows that and I must always listen to it.