" Día de los Muertos, or Day of
the Dead, is not a Mexican version of Halloween. Though related, the two annual
events differ greatly in traditions and tone. Whereas Halloween is a dark night
of terror and mischief, Day of the Dead festivities unfold over two days in an
explosion of color and life-affirming joy. Sure, the theme is death, but the
point is to demonstrate love and respect for deceased family members. In towns
and cities throughout Mexico, revelers don funky makeup and costumes, hold
parades and parties, sing and dance, and make offerings to lost loved
ones." - Logan Ward
November
2nd is Dia de los Muertos, not October 31 but, because we see so many skulls
during Halloween, I thought I would jump the gun here.
For
Dia de los Muertos, the skulls, ( think sugar skulls) are symbols of love and
happy memories of loved ones. If you
have not watched "Coco", please do yoruwelf a huge favor and watch
it. It is powerful and beautiful. The holiday, for Spanish Americans, is all
about celebration.. like a birthday party in heaven. It, along with Halloween lsot its traditional
sacred meanings and is in danger of becoming totally forgotten the WHY of it in
the first place. We so struggle with
death and grief and revel in sadness and mourning when, if we lived what we
believed, wouldn't we celebrate too?
My
middle daughter loved my father. Grandpa
loved Lainee to the moon. He died when
she was three. She wanted to know where
he went. We simply told her he was
sleeping... we should never have told her that.
She would not let any of us nap after that. I realized we had done her a great
disservice. So, then, what do we tell
her.. that God took him? and then have her hate god and ask him to give Grandpa
back. Bad God. Do we tell her he went to heaven and then
know we have not told that truth either because I know we go to a great sleep
first... do I know why? No! Just what I have heard. When my sweetheart died, I wrestled with the
idea of heaven and where Man Hands went?
I had to ask my religious son.. .if we go directly to heaven or if there
is a long sleep first. He stuttered a
bit and then said, we believe that there is a long sleep before resurrection of
all. Now, this did not sit right
either. So I had to just settle the idea
in my own head. I believe there is a
great long sleep and that we do not stay with our loved ones who have gone
before... it is all a kerfuffle if you ask me.
Why do we mourn if we know our loved one is out of pain? Why do we mourn if we think they even went
directly to heaven? I, eventually, came
back to a beautiful story I had heard.
It gave me some peace. Perhaps it
did not give me an answer, but it felt right to my soul. I share it with you now.
The second baby replied, “Why, of course. There has to be something after delivery. Maybe we are here to prepare ourselves for what we will be later.”
“Nonsense,” said the first. “There is no life after delivery. What would that life be?”
“I don’t know, but there will be more light than here. Maybe we will walk with our legs and eat from our mouths.”
The doubting baby laughed. “This is absurd! Walking is impossible. And eat with our mouths? Ridiculous. The umbilical cord supplies nutrition. Life after delivery is to be excluded. The umbilical cord is too short.”
The second baby held his ground. “I think there is something and maybe it’s different than it is here.”
The first baby replied, “No one has ever come back from there. Delivery is the end of life, and in the after-delivery it is nothing but darkness and anxiety and it takes us nowhere.”
“Well, I don’t know,” said the twin, “but certainly we will see mother and she will take care of us.”
“Mother?” The first baby guffawed. “You believe in mother? Where is she now?”
The second baby calmly and patiently tried to explain. “She is all around us. It is in her that we live. Without her there would not be this world.”
“Ha. I don’t see her, so it’s only logical that she doesn’t exist.”
To which the other replied, “Sometimes when you’re in silence you can hear her, you can perceive her. I believe there is a reality after delivery and we are here to prepare ourselves for that reality when it comes….”
-
Pablo Molinero, The Parable
And
so we struggle until we find a settlement to our giref, our reason for sadness,
and pray it does not take too long nor be too debilitating. I was debilitated with the loss of
Richard. I have never felt that depth of
sorrow; not at the loss of my father, my
mother, my birth mother, my brothers and sisters, nothing.. no one had I loved
and felt more loss for. I broke. I did not break because I did not believe in
heaven, no, I broke because I had never been so thoroughly loved before in my
conscious life. I grieved for myself, my
loss, my pitiful life to come without him.
My
page is so unfinished and it is apropos that it is so. I have not figured out what death is, means,
yet.
Challenge: Do a page on skulls for Halloween... Or for Dia de los Muertos
©Carol
Desjarlais 10.4.19
Interesting I am counting on being with my parents the day I die. No one can tell me different. If not I won't want to die. I feel my parents around me, no doubt of that. We are able to believe what we want Is a choice. I believe our babies were in heaven before we got them. Amen.
ReplyDeleteThank you, as always, for the post. Have you ever read John Bunyan's, Pilgrim's progress? You might find comfort from it. It was written, in a very simple text, yet in such a way as to have a compelling power about it. As simple and yet complex as it is, it is one of a favorite of Pastors for representing the path to eternity.
ReplyDeleteLinda, I have not read Pilgrim's Progress, although I do know it is a classic. I must seek it out this winter.
ReplyDeleteMarg, yes, we do feel them... I still find feathers... I do know it comforted me... to me, it is the Great Mystery, but not one I spend time on since I have come to some sort of peace with it all. I do know, as well, that my father met me when I died and that I had a choice. I think it is good to come to some sort of sense of that which comforts us, for sure.