Recalling it now, I realized, I was not quick enough to shoot back my killer one-liner (the way I used to) because I kept telling myself I was in my father's funeral and I had to be very careful not to make a scene with tactless and unwelcome visitors! There was another guy, who was already drunk, who started making some statements about the eldest daughter, because he mistook me as the youngest. The youngest said, ah, she's always mistaken as the youngest, which had alerted the guy. I was curious what that drunkard was about to say about me before he was stopped by his companions. Was he going to blurt out something about my political beliefs? Or why I hadn't married?!
Then, the wake was really a wake, because it forced you to stay awake, even if your body was already crumbling for lack of sleep. I had to get along with some people, including the driver who told me pointblank in between gulped of Fundador, I should be ashamed of myself because at my age, I still don't have a house and a car, I should strive to have one! As if that is all that matters in the world. I told the foolish fellow those are not the things that I treasure most. What I treasure most are things that people like him could not see. But the guy is so stupid to understand what I was saying. Except for some kindred souls, the two women friends, who offered me some beautiful verses to light up the dark moments of grief (and surprisingly, they belong to another religious sect but they only came to pay their respect), most of the people at the funeral really upset me. I was wondering why can't we just make the funeral a private affair? Why not shut the door and only allow those closed to us to enter?