Yesterday afternoon, Becky and I were talking about the situation in one of the church plants, named Boma. All of sudden, Joely arrived and after the typical greetings, shared that Geralda's father had died. We spoke of Geralda in one of our entries in the past (). Geralda and her daughter Danya have become a part of our family.
So we quickly cleared our schedule and asked how we could help. The obvious way for us to help was to help transport family members up to their dad's home in the mountains . For those who have been here, it is close to the town of Manabao. Because it was late in the afternoon and most likely I would be returning in the dark, we decided that I, Rick, would go.
But first, Becky went to Geralda's home to see how she was doing and help get them ready for the trip. She was met with what you would expect in a household in the immediate throes of grief. Many tears, a bit of chaos, cleaning and packing. A friend of Geralda's was there cleaning the house so it would be ready when the family returned. Geralda's was gathering necessary items to take to Manabao. We fell into an embrace of tears for a few minutes and then Geralda continued to pack. Very quickly we were on our way to her sister's house where there were more tears and hugs. Finally we went to the public hospital where her father actually died.
This was VERY emotional as many of the family friends were outside the hospital (there isn't a waiting area inside). Geralda felt she and her sister should go into see her father's body, but fortunately the attending doctor came out and talked with them about his death. Apparently he was brought down from the hospital because he was not feeling well. In the past he has had some type of kidney problem. However, he suffered a heart attack and died as the doctor was attempting to treat him. The doctor discouraged them from trying to see the body and encouraged them to go to the family home in Manabao and await transportation of the body there for burial. So Becky drove the family to our house where they had some lemonade before leaving for Manabao.
We drove about 45 minutes, mostly in silence. A few times, I could not help but comment on the beauty. I was seeing places for the first time. When we reach Manabao, we continued on toward the next town and the end of the road. At some point, we turned off the dirt road down a smaller dirt road and traveled for about a mile. Finally, we came to a small intersection and Geralda told me to park. There was not place to park, so I just stopped my car on the road. If another car came (very unlikely) I would have to move my car.
Walking down a smaller side road/path, we came to a house. Men, women and children were there. And you could feel the grief. Geralda's father was laying in his casket just inside his house. The casket was closed but had a window so you could see his head. Geralda, her sister and a friend all entered the house and fell by the casket, bursting into tears. Emotions were released as they wailed and screamed in grief. Family members and neighbors tried to comfort them, but how could you comfort someone who has just lost their father?
The men mostly stayed outside the house. Some came bringing big logs. Another had an axe and began to chop the wood so that they could make a fire so they could cook a meal for everyone that was there. Women worked in the kitchen. Some women sat around the casket and held a Mass. People continued to arrive. When I left, there were probably 70 people there. People would continue to arrive. The next morning, they would bury Geralda's dad.
I drove home, bringing back one lady to her home in Jarabacoa. We talked along the way, but my mind couldn't let go of what I had seen. In the United States, we have professionals who help us through times of death. Here, the family and neighbors take care of what needs to be done. I knew this, but to see it first hand, was shocking. And today, I am in shock.
We have come to love these people. To experience this time with them is truly an honor. I am an outsider, not knowing any except Geralda and her daughter Danya. But even in this terrible time of grief, this family seemed conscious to care for me. I didn't want that, I wanted to care for them and help in however I could.
From talking with Geralda, we understand that her dad accept Christ as his Savior at an early age. He was known for carrying his Bible and studying it. We never had the opportunity to meet him here on earth, but look forward to the day when we can meet him in heaven.
We drove about 45 minutes, mostly in silence. A few times, I could not help but comment on the beauty. I was seeing places for the first time. When we reach Manabao, we continued on toward the next town and the end of the road. At some point, we turned off the dirt road down a smaller dirt road and traveled for about a mile. Finally, we came to a small intersection and Geralda told me to park. There was not place to park, so I just stopped my car on the road. If another car came (very unlikely) I would have to move my car.
Walking down a smaller side road/path, we came to a house. Men, women and children were there. And you could feel the grief. Geralda's father was laying in his casket just inside his house. The casket was closed but had a window so you could see his head. Geralda, her sister and a friend all entered the house and fell by the casket, bursting into tears. Emotions were released as they wailed and screamed in grief. Family members and neighbors tried to comfort them, but how could you comfort someone who has just lost their father?
The men mostly stayed outside the house. Some came bringing big logs. Another had an axe and began to chop the wood so that they could make a fire so they could cook a meal for everyone that was there. Women worked in the kitchen. Some women sat around the casket and held a Mass. People continued to arrive. When I left, there were probably 70 people there. People would continue to arrive. The next morning, they would bury Geralda's dad.
I drove home, bringing back one lady to her home in Jarabacoa. We talked along the way, but my mind couldn't let go of what I had seen. In the United States, we have professionals who help us through times of death. Here, the family and neighbors take care of what needs to be done. I knew this, but to see it first hand, was shocking. And today, I am in shock.
We have come to love these people. To experience this time with them is truly an honor. I am an outsider, not knowing any except Geralda and her daughter Danya. But even in this terrible time of grief, this family seemed conscious to care for me. I didn't want that, I wanted to care for them and help in however I could.
From talking with Geralda, we understand that her dad accept Christ as his Savior at an early age. He was known for carrying his Bible and studying it. We never had the opportunity to meet him here on earth, but look forward to the day when we can meet him in heaven.
