My dad wanted an Irish wake when he died
A real one he said
The kind where the friends and family get drunk
Tell stories and laugh
And perhaps cause a fight or two
Fisticuffs for the deceased
Something John Wayne would have done in The Quiet Man
No tears, no regrets, no false sympathies
No parades of mourners lining up for one last look
At the body
Only camaraderie, bravado, and a little bit of excess
His way of dying with dignity
But when my dad did die, after his body broke down
And the signs he ignored for so long
Came around with a balance due
We failed him
He laid in an open casket, and we all took our turns
His face immaculate, his hair coiffed
His body so carefully staged for the auction to come
“Beautifully preserved recently deceased male, who wants to open the bidding?”
And the mourners came
They came with carefully measured solemnity
They got their cheap thrill
They hugged, they cried
All in defiance of my dad’s order
He must have been pissed off
Ready, like Wayne’s character Sean Thornton
To start the fight when a fight was necessary
But not today, Dad, not today
I spoke, I can’t recall what I said exactly
But I mentioned that he loved John Wayne movies
The swagger, the no bullshit persona
Which made a few people laugh
Because they knew it was true
That’s who my dad wanted to be
The soul of an Irishman
Living in his Ecuadorian and Mexican body
He will always be that to me.
