Having never been to a funeral in a foreign country, I had no idea how openly emotional they are. I have been to services in the US that were extremely raw, and I've been to some where there was not a tear in the house, but that was most likely from valium, I'm sure. Needless to say (but I say it anyway) some folks don't allow themselves to show emotion in public, as if it's unseemly.
Rigo arrived at the house on Giudecca just after I did and he loaded Chiara up into his arms for the flight down the stairs. It's a walk of a few blocks, and he carried her like an infant. She has crutches but hasn't gone any farther than from the length of the house in them yet. Neighbors looked out their windows as we passed by, perhaps knowing that since the family was at the church they could now go as well. The pied pipers.
I went to take a seat in the second pew to allow the family to be in front, but neither Chiara nor Mamma would have it. Chiara just held on to my arm the whole time, tucked into my side. I'm like an oversized pillow to her. I stayed seated with her while everyone knelt and stood during the Mass. There were no testimonial moments (for lack of a better word) but what I mean to say is, there were no stories or memories given by those who knew her; only the funeral Mass and homily. I don't think anyone in the family would have been capable to speak anyway.
I could tell there were a lot of people in the church from the line of people receiving communion, but it wasn't until after the services, when everyone came forward to file past the family and pay their condolences that I realized exactly how many people there were.
Many of Chiara's friends from school came with their families, which was very kind. Lots of people from their town of Mogliano , those who worked with Francesca, but the amount of Venetians blew me away. Everyone from their neighborhood on Giudecca island, it seemed. And so many from the hotel- Marco's co-workers. I recognized so many faces. Managers from the hotel, the night staff, the porters. All the people from the bar who I am friends with as well- Giorgio, Serena, Aldo, Luana - even Donato and Riccardo who don't work there any longer. It was very kind of them to come to support Marco in his loss. My neighbor upstairs, Viviana, was there.
One person I had forgotten would be there was the cousin Bruno, whose family came up from Bologna. I met him in 2003 when I testified in a criminal case. Backstory - I was mugged in Sicily; he happened to be on the state prosecutorial team. Small world. He was very surprised to see me, and very happy that I've kept in touch with the family - he had no idea I was still coming to Italy, since I gave up the idea of working there after the incident.
It was an amazing show of respect for the family, for all these people to take the time.
Respects paid, people cleared out and we went in Rigo's boat to the mainland to get in cars for the ride to the cemetery in Portogruaro. It was pretty much family only. I've been with them before on All Saints Day when they tend to the niches in the mausoleum. Now there's another to tend. Sad.
And finally, the end of the day came. I had been surrounded by people all day, but felt very alone. I am happy to be here to lend whatever support I can, but it is incredibly draining emotionally. I miss my family.
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