My first Honduran funeral

Today was a very strange day.  I have had a lot of mixed emotions and I am still not sure how I really feel.  Some of it I can't share here.  But I can share with you my first Honduran funeral experience.

Got out of my car at the church to have Belinda tell me that we need to talk.  We had a meeting regarding the kitchen and the people who work there yesterday, so I thought maybe it was a follow up on that.  But it wasn't.  She told me that Clara's baby died at 4 a.m. today.

For some reason I hadn't prepared myself for that possibility.  I should have.

Then she showed me text message.  You know how I am always saying that it is hard for me to get accustomed to always greeting people with "Good morning" or whatever greeting fits at the time.  Well, at 4:06 a.m. Belinda received a text that read something like, "Good morning.  I am writing to let you know that our baby just died."  I can't remember exactly, but I was struck by the fact that in the middle of everything, Clara still took the time to write "Good morning" in her message.

Belinda said that Ethel had spoken to Clara and Clara was "tranquila" (calm).  That was certainly true.  Clara was sad at moments, but she was calm and relaxed.  Clara is a strong woman, with strong faith.  I know I can learn a lot from her.

Clara and her family

In the early afternoon they brought a white box with the baby in it.  Relatives had come early and set up the church while I finished feeding the Breakfast Program kids and sent them on their way.  They put the box on a table in the front and had what we would call in the US "calling hours".  Most people had only heard about the baby dying a few hours earlier and many were at work, so the attendants were closest friends and family.  But it was enough people to be a respectful turnout.  I am told that when a baby dies in Honduras, less people attend.  I am guessing that is because of the statistics of infant mortality, which are high even when the baby hasn't developed in a womb that was receiving chemotherapy for the first half of the pregnancy.

Walter spoke for a few minutes.  Then we squeezed into the van, my car, and a pickup truck (with men in the back end) and drove to the cemetery.  I had never been inside a cemetery in Honduras before.  It was interesting and pretty in a different sort of way.

The taller cement things are up to three levels high.  Families are buried together vertically.

It rained for a few minutes, but the sun was still out.
Kind of metaphorical

Thank you to each of you who sent messages of support.  I read each word to Clara and her family.  They appreciated every message very much.