Día de los Muertos

Today is Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), a holiday of sorts in Mexico to remember and honor the dead (also All Soul’s Day according to the Roman Catholic calendar). Living in the Southwest for the past twenty years, I have become more and more aware of this day and more and more fascinated by it. On Día de los Muertos, the graves of loved ones are cleaned and decorated, family and friends keep watch through the night at the gravesites, and ofrendas (altars) are created to honor and welcome the dead. The ofrendas are decorated with skeletons, sugar skulls and other symbols of death, as well as flowers, candles, personal belongings from the dead, photos, and food to feed the souls of the deceased who return on this day to visit.

When my father died five years ago, I began to create an ofrenda in his honor each year. It seemed a more personally compelling way to remember him than the annual memorial mass at the Catholic church my mother hosts. The ofrenda is personal and intimate to me, and in putting it together each year, I feel connected to my dad. While I believe our spirits/souls only exist in our living bodies, it is nice to think that the spirit of my dad comes to see the altar I create for him each year.

On his altar you can see a photo of him and me in a public garden in our hometown. That photo is a happy memory for me and is one of my favorites of my dad. The pocketknife and rosary that my dad carried in his pocket everyday are also there as well has his high school class ring. There are edible treats and a glass of one of his favorite liqueurs.

Also on the altar is a photo of Mila (short for Milagro, "miracle" in Spanish), Clover Leaf’s little daughter. I nursed Mila through a difficult kittenhood before she left to live a wonderful life with my best friend Kris. Mila died several years ago after a developing kidney disease. A lock of her fur is on the altar and there are some kitty treats and kibble alongside the edible treats for my dad.

In past years others who have touched my life have made the altar in the first year after their deaths: Mark’s mom Joan, Kris’ dad Wayne, and Theo. But it’s first and foremost for my dad.