Dear Editor,
And to the people of Gallup, I never thought that I would ever witness an end to the Hispanic tradition of El Velorio, also referred to as a wake or vigil. It had been present since the time when people still traveled by horse and buggy. Back in those days when a person in the community died, all the neighbors offered not only their condolences, but their services as well. The night before the burial was to take place, all the townspeople gathered at the home of the deceased for the wake. The corpse was usually placed in the living room or in the bedroom. Many of the closest friends, relatives, and other mourners would stay up with the corpse. I remember the smell of Pinon wood and coal during a velorio, it was always present in Gallup because this was the only source of fuel to heat the homes. And I remember children were allowed to stay up all night listening to the grownups talk, pray, and sing at the velorio, it was a very special experience. I was just a kid at a velorio when I met Jose, the man that sang the alabados, an elderly man, a (Penitentes), which is another story. This man Jose, told me of a woman who was a very good person that had died early one morning. Her husband had passed away many years before. Between her and her husband they had one son. But this son was more than enough. He was nothing but trouble for his mom. His name was Vicente, he never worked at all. All he ever did was drink and get into fights. His mom was always begging her son to change his ways, but he would only laugh and take off again. He was so disrespectful to his poor mother. On the day his mother died, Vicente. Felt so guilty for the many things he did and didn't do, especially for not asking for forgiveness. A couple of weeks later, after she had been buried, Vicente her son was still drinking but not as much. There was another old woman who lived in the same community. Her son took off, he went into town and did not return. It was close to three o'clock in the morning, still no sign of her son. This lady was so worried about her son, she could no longer tolerate waiting at home. She decided to wait for her son by the side of the road. She covered her entire body with a long black shawl and also covered part of her face, it was very dark that night, there was only the light of the moon. She was waiting patiently on the side of the road. Vicente was on his way home, he was not drunk, but had drank enough so he was feeling no pain. This lady knew that this was not her son, but she decided to approach him anyway. She would ask Vicente if he had any information on her son's whereabouts. The old lady appeared before him, and began to cry out "Have you seen my son?". " I am so worried, I have been waiting for him to come home". As she got closer to Vicente, the young man was stunned, he cried out "Mama?!". He started to beg for her forgiveness. Vicente was so scared he fell off his horse and the old woman took off running to get help. When help arrived they found Vicente dead. Vicente believed this old woman he met on the road that night was his dead mother and he had died of extreme fright. He was convinced that his mother's spirit had come back to haunt him because of his evil ways.
~Mike Perez~
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