Muerte

“A good teacher is like a candle - it consumes itself to light the way for others.” ~Author Unknown

The tires chirped on the runway as Mexicana flight 137 touched down at Mexico City International. He had not expected to return to Mexico so soon, but he hadn’t expected his primo (cousin) to die so suddenly either. Rogelio (or Rodger to his family and friends) was 78.

The cab driver put the luggage in the trunk securing the trunk lid with a bungee cord. The cost of the ride to his cousin’s house was negotiated before the driver would even put his bags in the trunk. Everything operated on the barter system here.

When the cab arrived at the house several of Rodger’s grandchildren came bounding out of the house, scampering to the cab to greet him. They chattered simultaneously, asking all kinds of questions, while the cab driver did his best to extricate the luggage from the trunk. The bags on the curb and a tip in his shirt pocket the cabby headed off down the street looking for his next fare.

With more help than he needed from the children Rodger’s cousin managed to get the bags to the porch. By this time the rest of the family had come out to greet him. After all the perfunctory hugs, kisses, back slaps and handshakes had been completed he and his luggage were swept into the house with the crowd of family members.

Once inside, the children’s interest shifted from the bags to something seemingly more important. They grabbed his arms and began tugging at them in an effort to lead him out the back of the house to the patio. He allowed himself to be directed to the back edge of the yard where he was confronted by a pile a stones with a small wooden cross at the head of it. “It looks like a grave,” he remarked to the children. “Si” they all said simultaneously, almost singing the word.

“Our old dog is buried there,” blurted out one of the boys. “You did a very nice job” the cousin remarked. “Oh we didn’t do this by ourselves,” the oldest girl replied, with an air of confidence only big sisters can have. “Grandpapa showed us and helped us.” “Si”, said another. “He explained all about ‘being dead’ to us.” The simultaneous chatter resumed as each of the children enthusiastically explained what they had learned from Grandpapa about “muerte”.

Finally, one of the female cousins came to the back door and called to them. The mole’, which had been simmering all day, was ready, as was the pollo and tortillas. It was time to eat. It seemed there was always food for family, always ready, always calling to any who visited. Just as Rodger's love had always been there, ready to accept and embrace. Rodger had visited his cousin in the music of the children’s laughter and the incense of the mole’.

The children lead him back to the house…this time pushing and pulling. Fausto didn’t mind. He was still marveling at what his primo, the children’s Grandfather, had left as his legacy…wisdom!

Death is not something we like to talk about with our families. It is the proverbial “elephant in the living room.” We are frail creatures and it is hard to admit our own mortality, let alone discuss it openly. The death of a family pet can be troubling for children (and adults).

Rodger, rather than shielding his grandchildren from the death of the family pet, walked a very different path. He made the event a gift of wisdom for his grandchildren and, in so doing, sanctified the event. This meant taking the time to walk the children through the process of burying the dog, gently explaining what had happened to the dog, and answering their questions frankly and kindly. In so doing, whether intentionally or not, he prepared them for his own death. In the Catholic Church we would call this catechesis.

When Fausto came for the funeral the grandchildren were able to pass along their new found understanding to him, which, in turn, allowed him to visit his cousin Roger again, but in a new way…through the wisdom of the children and their enthusiasm in sharing it.

This is one of the wonderful gifts of stewardship…to be able to see the gift within, what would be to most of us, a troubling event. Rodger approached this opportunity, this gift, in such a way, as to make it much more than what it was. Rodger returned it to God with increase. Some might call this “victory over death.”

Dear God, remind me daily that everything is a gift from you, to be returned with increase.

“A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops.” ~Henry Brooks Adams, American journalist, historian, academic and novelist (1838-1913)

© 2010 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

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