Grieving
the loss of picnics at cemetaries
Julie
Guevara
No Me Calles
When
death becomes the topic of discussion, I
do not associate it with the mourning process.
I guess as a Latina, I think of it as a
time to celebrate a person's life and remembering
the good times spent with them. I do consider
it a great loss, but if you were to ask
anyone whose culture practices this same
idea, they would agree that it is the one
time that the entire family gets together
to throw back a few beers, laugh, cry, hug,
reminisce and pray relentlessly.
Two
years ago, it was my time to sit back with
"la familia," throw back a few
beers, and do all that good stuff that comes
long with our "grieving process."
"Mi abulita," my grandmother died
on an early August morning. I was lied to,
told she was really sick and had to rush
to her house to say my good-byes. But I
got there only to find out that she had
already passed away and my family hadn't
wanted me to drive crazily to her house,
thus lying to me for my own good.
There
she was, lifeless and cold. I went to kiss
her and smelled her scent one last time.
That day we prayed three times and continued
to do so the days following her death. The
rosary and what seems like a thousand Hail
Mary's and Our Father's, the beers, laughs
and all that other stuff in between.
The
funeral was nice. We hired a mariachi band
and let the white doves soar. It came time
to bury her, and that's when it hit me --
she was gone -- forever.
Point
is, that cemetery where we buried her, has
been the only place where I find peace and
sanctuary in this fast-paced world. Last
week when my boyfriend and I went to go
visit her, my special place had some restrictions.
Usually we pick up something from In-n-Out
and eat at the cemetery by my Mami's side.
She hated for us to call her "abuelita."
Upon entering the gates, a sign read "No
Picnicking." Did that mean I could
no longer go to the cemetery and take my
food to eat lunch with the woman who, for
so long, was my ray of sunshine?
So
I called and was told that some people had
gotten a little out of hand with the barbecues
and cervezas or beers and the loud music.
Some people felt that all this was disrespectful
to the other "guests" at Oakdale
Cemetary.
I
probably should have agreed with their policy,
seeing as though some music and a few beers
could get a little out of hand, but I did
not. Sure the beers in public was a little
much. Yes, the role of the Oakdale staff
is not to ensure people aren't getting drunk,
but certainly to make sure that others are
not disturbed. So Oakdale, I'm not mad at
you. I'm mad at those people who ruined
it for everyone else. Drink your beers elsewhere.
But let the music stay, at a low volume
of course. It is one of the few things that
keeps us close to our loved ones. And the
food, as long as I'm not busting out with
the carne asada, then let me "have
my cake and eat it too"!
It
is the ignorance of people that ruins it
for everyone else! Don't play Vicente Fernandez
so loud that the whole damn city can hear
you, have a little respect. And leave the
grill at home; there is such thing as Tupperware
or tin foil.
Julie
Guevara is a communications major at Cal
State Long Beach and can be reached at MissJewel212@aol.com.
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