Lessons from my First Day of the Dead
For the past week and a half, we've had the loveliest houseguest, Francisco, from Mexico. Among the many gifts he's brought us (friendship, music, fun, quality of presence), he also introduced us to the beautiful Mexican tradition of Día de los Muertos. Apart from Disney's production of 'Coco' and photos from friends on Instagram, my experience with the Day of the Dead was basically nil. Until this week.
The ancestor altar: a place of remembrance
Last weekend, we began gathering items for our ancestor altar, in preparation for honouring and celebrating loved ones who have died. As Francisco explained, although there might be some sadness, this holiday is a time for celebration. By inviting our dead loved ones into our awareness in physical, sensory ways (photos, flowers, offerings of food and drink, mementos, and the four elements), the celebrations cross the veil.
We feel happy while remembering our ancestors.
Meanwhile, our ancestors feel happy to be remembered.
Assembling the altar was a family affair.
Our kids enjoyed adorning it with flowers, leaves and seeds.
Tuesday evening, we gathered around and assembled our altar. I knew this would be right up my alley, but didn't expect to be so moved by the acts of:
dishing rice pudding for Grandma Esther into her pink depression glass dessert bowl,
pouring Grandpa Jack a glass of wine,
stirring cream into tea I poured for my grandparents in cups they used in their homes,
filling the biggest cup we have on hand with water for Grandma Anne (she always had a gigantic-sized cup on the go), and
reading treasured letters my Grandpa Henry wrote me when I was living abroad.
We also honoured my aunt and uncle, my husband Rhett's grandma, two grandpas, and cousin, Francisco's mentor and dear friend, other loved ones we hold in our hearts, and the thousands of lost children whose graves continue to be discovered in residential school grounds across Canada.
Our first Day of the Dead altar.
Photos, mementos, food and drink to honour my grandparents and relatives.
With the altar set out, we gathered around and enjoyed a bowl of rice pudding with our ancestors, while Francisco read the kids a sweet little book explaining the origins and traditions around Día de los Muertos.
Día de los Muertos, by Hannah Eliot.
Illustrated by Jorge Gutierrez.
Connecting with our beloved dead
I can't overstate the palpable sense of connection I experienced with my ancestors that night, and how good it felt to share stories and memories of them with our kids.
Aside from a memorial or funeral at the time of death, mainstream Western culture suffers from a near complete lack of rituals to remember our dead. A lot can be learned from cultures which continue to practice traditions to honour and celebrate their ancestors, and cultivate the ongoing bond between the living and the dead.
Ritual plumbing
Author Elizabeth Gilbert wrote:
We all need such places of ritual safekeeping. And I do believe that if your culture or tradition doesn’t have the specific ritual you are craving, then you are absolutely permitted to make up a ceremony of your own devising, fixing your own broken-down emotional systems with all the do-it-yourself resourcefulness of a generous plumber/poet.
In creating our own personal rituals, we can be inspired by other cultures and traditions without carelessly appropriating them. In the case of our Day of the Dead celebration, we adapted it to reflect our values and include tokens that are meaningful to us:
Instead of prayers, we shared words of gratitude.
Instead of skull candies and skeleton mariachis, we offered roasted pumpkin seeds, tea with cream and sugar, and a cribbage board.
Our kids are already asking if we can celebrate Día de los Muertos again next year, and we surely will. Although the roots and intentions of our tradition will be grounded in what Francisco shared with us this week, our expression of it will evolve over the years to reflect our family in unique ways.
In creating and reimagining rituals to connect with our lost loved ones, we are deepening bonds that exist across space and time.
I'd love to hear how you honour and remember your ancestors.
Please share this post and comment below!
Credit: Emma Love Photography
AUTHOR: KARLA COMBRES
As a Legacy Guide & Celebrant, I help individuals, couples, families and organizations make the big and small moments in life count, and shape their legacy along the way. I offer:
Drawing on my vast experience as a Life-Cycle Celebrant and in working with people at the end of life, I am uniquely qualified to help people move through transitions meaningfully and to think about how they want to leave this world so they can live better now.
I’m based in Saskatchewan, Canada and serve clients worldwide. Read more about me here.
Find me on: