...And Then There Were Eight

Grandpa, Dad, Uncle Armando, Cousin Elias

As part of my heritage I come from a large extended family. On my mother's side I have two aunts and three uncles. My father comes from a family of 9 boys.

This weekend, one of my father's brother's passed away.

Of course, hearing the news as I was readying for work caused a traffic jam of reactions. Should I call into work? Should I drive down there right now? Should I send my condolences from home? Flowers? Cards? Wait for my parents to come down then go?

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Needless to say, I called into work and headed down to the Rio Grande Valley for a funeral. I get there and, as expected, find myself amidst the mourning. Much to my surprise; however, the true spirit of family comes to fruitition as we turned calamity into a cause for unity. 

At the wake and subsequent funeral, I met extended family I didn't know existed and saw relatives I haven't seen in well over a decade. Life blossomed and cousins who I last saw playing in the dirt have children of their own. Uncles become grandparents and grandparents become great grandparents. I also had the distinct honor of meeting my parents friends and connected with their past in a way that I would never have on my own. 

The funeral itself was spiritually charged. As we waited for him to be buried outside in the charred earth of South Texas, the air stood still. Beads of sweat and glistening brows and eyes waited in anticipation for his descent to his final resting place. As soon as the last piece of earth was placed on his grave it's as though his spirit took a breath of life. A cool breeze in appreciation blew and cooled us as we gathered to return to grandma's house. My uncle's soul finally was at peace and I still believe the cool breeze after the scorching sun was his thanks to us for coming to see him off. Shortly after arriving to grandma's house after the funeral the sky began to storm and a great torrent of water came down and cooled the sun-baked earth. My mother says that her grandmother once told her that a storm after a funeral means that God had accepted the deceased's soul. Affirmation to my uncle's now eternal sleep. 

These past few days will always remind me of the fragility of human life and perseverance of the human spirit. This weekend, we came to a funeral...and it became a celebration of life.

My uncle Armando Cesar Gonzalez died last Friday May 14, 2010. He was born December 23, 1954. The oldest of nine brothers. Rest in Peace, Tio. We love you.