“Don Rafael lived a long and wonderful life,” the village minister intoned. “His family and friends loved him deeply. Everyone who ever had business dealings with him trusted him and he earned their respect. This world will be a poorer place without Don Rafael. Although he is no longer with us in body he will be with us always in spirit.”
After the eulogy and service, the mourners filed past Don Rafael’s casket and said a few words or shed a few tears.
“Rest in peace my friend.”
“We will miss you.”
“God bless you.”
I had known Raphael for over twenty-five years and Mario, who was with me, came from the same small village. We had come to pay our respects at the old man’s funeral.
“That was a nice ceremony,” I said, as Mario drove me to the airport.
“Yes, it was,” Mario said. “Everyone in the village was there and his friends came from all over Belize for the funeral.”
“I hope I get that much respect when I die,” I said.
“Me, too,” said Mario. “Everyone had something good to say about Rafael.”
“We all pass away sooner or later,” I said. “I hope that when I am lying in my casket people will say that I was a good and honest man who lived a long, happy life.”
“That would be nice,” Mario said.
“What about you?” I asked. “What would you like them to say about you?”
“I want somebody to say, ‘Hey, look! He’s moving!’”