Have you ever noticed that if you travel outside our little bubble, there are places that are a little less....ummm.....savory than ours? We live in a very beautiful area. Hills, greenery, land, flowers and an overall safe and happy feeling.
Is it the place that creates the people? Or the people that create the place?
You can't deny that certain areas...let's say, attract certain types of people. And those people have their people come and move in around them, and pretty soon, the town is full of them.
Yesterday I was at a funeral for my sister in laws nephew (who is also my nieces cousin). He was 23. Random violence. Or possibly not. No one knows for sure. He was from an area where "these things happen". But do they really have to happen???
I drove to the service myself. I could feel the difference from their city to ours. You can see in on the peoples faces. When I got their, they put me in line for the funeral procession. I got out of my car and headed into the church (that was surrounded by gates.).
First thing I noticed was how overdressed I felt. Most were very casual. Some were a little dressed up, but way less than me. As a matter of fact, I was one of the nicest dressed people there. One of maybe a dozen. I was instantly self conscious. I definitely stuck out.
But as I entered the church, I couldn't help but see that people were bunched into groups. It was a large and beautiful church. As I walked in, there was a group of about 10 to my right, in the back. As I walked a few steps more to my left was a group of about 20 people. Then, many empty rows between, where there were scattered folks about in groups of 3 or less. Then towards the front of the church, the pews to the left were nearly full from the 1st row to the 10the row, while the pews to the right had about 4 rows were full, and the rest of the left side (front section) were left nearly empty.
I assumed family was to the right, but my sister in law was in the section on the left, so I was confused. Why this configuration and where should I sit? I grabbed a seat on the left side, in a row all by myself. To say I felt awkward was an undestatement. As I had come in a few minutes late thanks to a faulty GPS system, I figured I would just take my chances.
The priest barely spoke english, but if you have ever been to a catholic mass, they are all the same. ALL the same..... (which answers so many questions about those spanish masses we went to as kids when we missed our own mass. But I digress......)
After the service, we all piled back into our cars for the funeral procession. The only line I can think of where you don't want to be "first" in line!
I was overwhelmed with all the cars heading over to the cemetary. It felt like hundreds. The police played like a symphony catching each light for us to pass through so there were no disruptions in our commute.
As I left the city and headed east, I realized we were going to the burial site of my dad. A beautiful cemetary about 10 cities away. As we got closer to his final resting place, I could feel the nervous tension leave me, and the sadness overwhelm me. He was 23 years old and walking home. He had nothing on him to defend himself. He was just starting to build his life. I broke down a few times on route, but pulled it together for the final service.
As we piled out of our cars and circled the casket, I looked at the group for the first time. I scanned their faces, looking for traces of sadness. Yes, there were some. But many stood stoic. Some even looke resigned, as if to say, "This is how it is for our people".
I couldn't help but wonder....could you possibly get used to this???? Just accept it as rote? Keep yourself devoid of emotion?
I guess some do.
But never the family. I watched as my niece cuddled next to everyone she could. Giving and taking hugs from anyone offering. She cried so much, it broke my heart. She's not yet 18. This is new to her. Because she is not from that area.
It was a beautiful service.
As it came to a close, I watched as they threw dirt and flowers into his grave. This is never a happy time. But a very meaningful time. He had a loving family. He was a good guy. He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Do the people make the place? Or the place make the people?
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