Locations

Locations

San Juan de Dios Burgos and Calle Egipto

We went to a wake last night at Benja’s mother’s house because his father died Thursday at the tender age of 57. It seems that he had been fighting diabetes tooth and nail for quite a few years and finally, after being blinded and disfigured by it, diabetes checked him out and he finished his time here.
I arrived with my wife, her father, her father’s girlfriend and one of the other guys we work with. Benjamin, we call him “Benja”, and his brother Beto greeted us at his mother’s house at 10:00 p.m. His other brothers and sisters were running around talking to all the guests that were also there. The adults were sitting around outside the house and the kids were playing in the street. There were probably 35 people there when we arrived.
I asked Benja if I could visit the casket. It was in his mother’s living room surrounded by old people and hundreds of flowers. He led me into the room and stayed with me as I paid my respects to a man whom I never knew. I touched the casket and thought to myself, “Don’t worry man. Your kids are going to be ok.” Then we left the room, walked back out into the street and sat with the other adults.
My wife’s father talked to Benja for a long time. Evidently, they’re real close. Benja, now 33 years old, has been working for him since he was 18 years old. There is a real bond between them. And on that cold night with the adults outside huddling under blanket and the kids playing and yelling in the street, I was glad to see that connection, because when we got there, Benja had a look in his eyes that reminded me of the apprehensive, almost panicky look a man gets when he is really, REALLY lost and there isn’t anybody around for him to ask directions or to tell him which way to go.
Benja did not have that same look in his eyes when we left. I checked.