His Final Goodbye
Patty, Indiana, USA
My story takes place in mexico. My father was a heavy smoker, and he passed away while on vacation in mexico. My experience happened on the night of his burial.
In our town it is custom for the family to shovel the dirt on the grave. I have two older brothers that stepped in to do it, and distraught as they were, they did it. We stayed till dark to light candles and pray. Well as the whole town and family were leaving the cemetery. Myself, my sister, and brother Jose didn't notice my brother Ruben leave. So we asked around and no one saw him, so we walk back up the hill in the dark with only the light at the top by the entrance of the cemetery to light our way. When we got to the entrance, the gates were locked so we couldn't enter. These weren't normal gates, they were old metal gates that had spikes at the top so we couldn't of climbed over even if we wanted to.
It was so dark that we couldn't see, so we started yelling for him. We were telling him that we know how he feels and its time to go home. Well as soon as we said that, someone by my fathers grave lit a cigarette. You could see it perfect, the flame, the inhale, and then the smoke exhale out. We didn't think anything of it, we still though it was out brother. So we started yelling more, telling him that it's not funny, or healthy for him to stay out there. That he was going to have to climb the gate to get out. Well we stood out there for 20 minutes yelling for him, and crying at the same time, when finally out brother Jose just told us to leave him. He wasn't even listening to us, he was still there smoking looking at the grave. As we walked back to our house, we noticed that someone who looked like our brother was sitting on the front step. As we got closer, it was him! Then we asked him how he got there. He said he was there the whole time, he had out with our grandmother (dads mom) in the truck, and rode back with her. With that we stopped and looked at each other. Who were we just yelling at the cemetery? The chills crept up our backs and said "Dad" at the same time.
You see even after our parents moved to the U.S, my father always as I can remember, wanted to be buried in Mexico. He just wanted to make sure his wishes were granted.
I love you "Papi", rest in peace.