A few weeks ago, the father of one of our beloved employees passed away. Even though he had been ill for quite some time, the loss was a hard one. Our employee was now tasked with organizing multiple public and private events to memorialize his father. When he asked if we'd be willing to assist by lending a few items, like tables and shade tents, we were happy to be able to help.
Little did I know that with that one small action I would become a part of something incredible.
As a event planner, I am hired to handle the details so the hosts can focus on the occasion. When we do our job properly all the client has to do is show up. This experience was entirely different. It opened my eyes to something not just new but so very special. I knew I had to share.
At 7:00 AM on a Saturday morning we met our employee in a local State Park. He and a few buddies had been there since dawn. Mind you, this is a son who has just lost his father, in a park setting up tents, tables, and chairs. 3 hours before he has to appear in a suit at his father's funeral. What came next was unbelievable. Friends and family began trickling in, all bearing various items - sound systems, food, drink, paper flowers, balloons, tablecloths, hammocks, you name it. By 9:00AM what was once a rather uninspired picnic site had become the setting for a fiesta.
This sense of community was something I have rarely experienced in my 25 years of doing events. Not to sound cliched, but I truly understood what she meant when Hillary Clinton said, "It takes a village". This was just that. A village of mourners coming together and sharing what they could - to celebrate a life.
Half an hour later, we paid our respects at the funeral home, many of us still sporting wet hair and looking slightly ruffled from our quickly grabbed showers and hasty dressing. From there we processed slowly to the gravesite. It was there that the true magic and healing began.
One of the daughters is a member of an Aztec Dance Group. They performed an extraordinary ancient burial ritual. Clad in fantastic feather headdresses and costumes, they led the standing crowd of over 100 people in a ceremony that included calling to the powers of the North, South, East, and West to guide the spirit to peace. As they departed, an 11-piece Mariachi band followed. They serenaded as the casket was lowered into the grave. Beyond all belief, the grieving widow gathered her grandchildren around the grave, and in a strong and resilient voice explained what had happened to Papi. She assisted them, and all of us, in coming to terms with the fact that it was now time to say goodbye. Following their lead, we tossed flowers into the grave, as the violins played, and the crooning voices of the Mariachi eased our heavy hearts.
Hours later as I, along with virtually everyone who attended, helped clean up at the park, I was struck by how blessed I was to have been able to experience this day. I realize that the true nature of a Novenario (wake) is about coming together, offering what you can, and honoring a memory. It's not about perfect centerpieces and practiced speeches. It's about asking for help and graciously accepting it. It's about grieving as a group, laughing at stories, sharing memories, and bonding.
I know that my employee is going to have a long road to the inevitable acceptance of his father's passing. B I also know, first hand, that he will have the love and support of so many to see him through it.
