I wore all black.
I was alone.
I actually paid $35 for VIP service to skip all the custom lines.
It was raining.
Our Staff didn’t greet me with a hug when I walked out of the airport.
Our driver who has been our friend for 6 years didn’t pick me up.
They were all together at the church, mourning the loss of our friend.
It was very different.
When I got there I didn’t want an umbrella, feeling the chilly rain on my skin outside the church seemed to validate reality.
Over 500+ showed up for our friend in the Dominican Republic. There was an honorary service in Haiti with hundreds more.
We walked from the church to the cemetery with him.
While we walked through the graveyard, they sang in Creole and Spanish. I sang in English. “Amazing Grace, how sweet it is.”
I realized I didn’t see his wife, Madame Lo Lo, or our Staff so I called to check on them. She was physically ill and couldn’t bare seeing him go into the ground.
After the prayer, I went back to the empty church and sat in disbelief. 11 days ago, he was fine.
We drove to their home. I washed my hands in orange leaves and water, tradition after being in the graveyard. I watched people stack the chairs and take down the tents that once were filled for a celebration of life the night before.
I sat with Madame Lo Lo in plastic chairs on a muddy path between the houses. She served me cola and I had to ask her to sit down. Tears rolled down her face. All I could do was hold her hand.
This trip was very different, one of our friends isn’t here.
