Experiencing a Spanish funeral
This weekend a good friend of José´s grandfather passed away. He had been sick for a while but it is always a hard thing to experience, even as an adult. Three of my grandparents died when I was fairly young. I remember them and their funerals but I am not sure it had the same impact on me as would have been if I had been older. I am very sorry for this friend also because this happened a month before his wedding. It is a sad situation and I am praying for him and his family.
José and I traveled to his hometown after work to attend the funeral on Monday. First I was surprised by how quickly they had the mass and burial. All of the funerals I have gone to in the United States were at least a day later, giving people time to plan first. This seemed to me to be quite fast. When we got there I also noticed that there we NO children involved in the mass or burial. As I mentioned, I was pretty young when my grandparents passed and I went to the funerals. Here in Spain the family of the deceased have a special ritual: "velar" their loved one. This means that the night before the burial they stay awake and around the body. The word "velar" comes from the word candle in Spanish. They hold a vigal for their family member all night.
We arrived a bit late for the mass and there was not even standing room left. We were forced to wait outside of the church since there were so many people there. This shows how loved both the grandfather and his family are in their town. People came out to honor him. After the mass ended, people began to do what is called "dar el pésame" which means offering their condolences. The family stayed in the front of the church, some up by the altar and other seated in the first few rows of pews. People filed by and offered words or a hug. The family members closest to the deceased were at the front of the line and so on. I could see a sort of heirarchy. Though it was nice to be able to offer them condolence, I did feel for them to have to share their grief in front of everyone in attendance while they sat or stood on the altar.
After everyone had passed through the line, we walked with the hearse to the cementary. This was also different. There was not a parade of cars, rather we walked with the family members through the town to the final resting place where the actual burial took place. People tend not to be cremated so the coffin was placed into its spot in a wall (rather than actually being buried in the ground). It was sealed up and a prayer offered. Later a plaque will be placed. As this was happening, I observed the other plaques. Spanish people tend to live for a long time! Most of the dates I saw showed people living well into their 70s, 80s and 90s. It must be the Mediterranean diet.
I can´t say that I am glad to have had this type of cultural experience, but I can say from an observer´s point of view that it was different from what I have seen in the U.S. There is a lot of tradition here and can only hope that this offers some type of solace to those who lost their loved one. Once again I am reminded that grief is the price we pay for love.
José and I traveled to his hometown after work to attend the funeral on Monday. First I was surprised by how quickly they had the mass and burial. All of the funerals I have gone to in the United States were at least a day later, giving people time to plan first. This seemed to me to be quite fast. When we got there I also noticed that there we NO children involved in the mass or burial. As I mentioned, I was pretty young when my grandparents passed and I went to the funerals. Here in Spain the family of the deceased have a special ritual: "velar" their loved one. This means that the night before the burial they stay awake and around the body. The word "velar" comes from the word candle in Spanish. They hold a vigal for their family member all night.
We arrived a bit late for the mass and there was not even standing room left. We were forced to wait outside of the church since there were so many people there. This shows how loved both the grandfather and his family are in their town. People came out to honor him. After the mass ended, people began to do what is called "dar el pésame" which means offering their condolences. The family stayed in the front of the church, some up by the altar and other seated in the first few rows of pews. People filed by and offered words or a hug. The family members closest to the deceased were at the front of the line and so on. I could see a sort of heirarchy. Though it was nice to be able to offer them condolence, I did feel for them to have to share their grief in front of everyone in attendance while they sat or stood on the altar.
After everyone had passed through the line, we walked with the hearse to the cementary. This was also different. There was not a parade of cars, rather we walked with the family members through the town to the final resting place where the actual burial took place. People tend not to be cremated so the coffin was placed into its spot in a wall (rather than actually being buried in the ground). It was sealed up and a prayer offered. Later a plaque will be placed. As this was happening, I observed the other plaques. Spanish people tend to live for a long time! Most of the dates I saw showed people living well into their 70s, 80s and 90s. It must be the Mediterranean diet.
I can´t say that I am glad to have had this type of cultural experience, but I can say from an observer´s point of view that it was different from what I have seen in the U.S. There is a lot of tradition here and can only hope that this offers some type of solace to those who lost their loved one. Once again I am reminded that grief is the price we pay for love.
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