"Your father wants to see you."

It didn't surprise me.  In fact, I was wondering what took so long for one of my father's goons to spot me and come fetch me.  It didn't matter that I was in the very back of the room in the last pew.  Feeling his huge paw on my left shoulder was almost a relief, as it told me that some things would never change. 

I stood still for a moment before leaving, saying a quick prayer as the organ wailed in the front of the room.

"Follow me, sir," he said with a gravelly voice as he led me out of the main auditorium and hung a wide left just past the restrooms.

"Still smoking, I see," I said calmly as I lagged a few steps behind while walking through the massive church that I hadn't been to for at least ten years.  I noticed a new piano sitting in the choir room through the glass window.  The floor tiles had finally been replaced. 

I could recall like it was yesterday how me and my friends would constantly trip over the chipped tiles as we ran down this very hallway over the years.  I'd spent a lot of my time in this church growing up, attending services with my nanny I smiled.  "Is he upset?"

"I'd say so," he said through a cough as he slowed down in front of a pair of confessional booths.  He parted the curtain of the one on the right and motioned with his head for me to enter.  I lowered my head and sat down, ready for the inevitable.

"How dare you?" the familiar voice boomed.  "Why did you come here?"

I stared incredulously at the adjoining wall.  "How could I not be here?"

She died of a heart attack at the age of 62.  She was all the family I'd known for years.  When my aunt sent me word that Lina was gone, I just knew I had to come back.  I had to see her one last time in order to come to grips with the fact that she was gone.  Tell her I loved her.  Tell her 'thank you' for everything she did for me.  Everything she meant.  I had to pay my respects and at least be there for her burial.  Lo entierro.

My father had to understand that.  Or so I thought. 

"I'm tired of you constantly putting this family at risk, Jackson."  My father sighed heavily, as was his custom when frustrated.  When talking to me.  "I asked you to stay where you were.  I asked you not to come back here.  To lay low for the time being."

"But she–"

"Shut up and listen to me!"  I could hear him shifting in the tiny booth next door.  "That seems to be your ultimate problem.  You have a hard time listening.  You must pay heed to what I say, Jackson."

Tears began to form, as was my custom when frustrated.  "I must pay heed to my soul," I said calmly.  "How could I not be here today?  She was like family to me.  To us.  She was my family.  I couldn't stay away." 

"You don't think I know that," he shot back with venom.

"Then please," I said, raising my voice, "ACT like you know that.  ACT like you realize how much she meant to me.  Like you understand why I had to defy you and be here today."

He cut me off.  "There is never an excuse for defiance, Jackson.  Not now.  The stakes are too high.  Anyone could have seen you out there.  Do you get that?"

"I do.  I really do," I said in measured tones, tears staining the carpet.  "And I was careful.  I promise you I was.  No one followed me.  That's one of the things that Lina always taught me–to watch my back."  I let loose a nervous laugh.  "She taught me to tie my shoes.  She taught me right from wrong, dad.  To respect you and mom.  I'd never do anything to put this family in jeopardy.  You have to know that."

"Don't tell me what I have to do," he shot back, not giving a damn about anything but himself.  "I know what I have to do, and that's protect this family.  How can I do that if you defy my orders at every turn?  You're supposed to be laying low in another state right now, but here you are.  Right here.  In plain sight.  What if your mother would've seen you, Jackson?  Did you think about what that would've done to her?  Why are you so selfish?"

I bit my tongue as I stared daggers through the wall that separated us.  "You want me to leave, I'll leave. But please, at least let me attend the burial.  Let me make peace with her death before I disappear.  She was my nanny!"

There were a few seconds of silence before my father's bodyguard parted the curtain, again motioning with his head for me to exit the booth.  As I stood to head back down the long hallway, saddened by my father's inability to recognize how much being there meant to me, how I needed to be there to make peace with Lina's death, I heard a low hum coming from the booth he occupied. 

My father was crying.

"Don't bury this family, Jackson," he mumbled as I walked past.  "Please don't bury this family."

Those words pierced my heart as I headed back to the large auditorium where my nanny's body laid in rest. The tears wouldn't stop flowing. Lo entierro.  The burial.