Ana had such a good sleep she is considering only sleeping every second night from here on in. Her nocturnal hours are regularly dominated by bathroom breaks, sweaty hot flashes, jerking around, yanking sheets off me, closet rearranging, checking her phone, thrashing, moaning, and sometimes just flat out studying the swirling popcorn ceiling finish with wide-eyed insomnia. Fortunately, there was really nothing left to do for today’s funeral so she was able to sleep in and catch up on a few of the previous evening’s lost hours.
Today, on our second attempt, and with the help of Tio Manuel, we were able to do what we needed to do with our banking in Vila Franca, then we took him out for coffee at the marina and enjoyed a lovely visit. He is the eldest brother in my mother-in-law Maria’s family and we have become very close with several branches of the Medeiros/Cabrinha clan over the years, both in Canada and here in the Azores. What runs through the family is a spirit of kindness and generosity and the unstoppable ability to have fun. They are a crazy bunch and we are very fortunate to be part of it.
After lunch back at home we all dressed up in the best clothes we had (hadn’t packed much for funeral attire) and went to the chapel early to greet attendees. Ana Margarida had spent the night there and got a reasonable amount of sleep on the provided leather couches as she kept Tia Ana company.
The service was quite short and obviously all in Portuguese, using a lot of religious language that was hard for me to follow, but Ana told me he knew Tia Ana well and spoke of her dedication to the Church, her generosity, and her kind nature and that she would be sadly missed by the entire community.
I need time to process all that happened in the previous 24 hours. I feel my earlier thoughts and assumptions about the Portuguese relationship with death were not accurate. Or let’s say they were incomplete. They certainly have been challenged and expanded.
The sadness of the day was followed up by great happiness and joy at a family gathering at Tio Luis (Tio Manuel’s youngest brother) and Tia Geneveva’s home. This was planned earlier in the week and happened to come at exactly the right time. It was an explosion of food, drinks, chatter, garden tours, and a whole lot of male grandchildren of various ages that together comprise Tio Luis’s personal clone army – all wirey, muscled, handsome, and smiling all the time. One of the two granddaughters was there – Iris – who is a real beauty and said to be regularly first in line at the late night dance clubs. I’m sure Stella and Iris would get along famously, and I hope they get a chance to meet soon.
It was a tough day followed up by an exceptionally fun night.
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