The Day of the Dead,
Or Dia de los Muertos,
Is an ancient and sacred tradition with roots in Mexico and Central America,
A celebration of remembrance,
Gratitude,
And the eternal bond between the living and those who came before us.
It's a time of color,
Light,
Music,
And devotion.
Not necessarily sorrow,
But love expressed through beauty and connection.
Altars,
Or ofrendas,
Are created with photographs,
Candles,
Flowers,
And favorite items of loved ones,
Tangible invitations for memory and spirit to meet.
It is a practice of honoring life,
Honoring lineage,
And recognizing that love does not end when the body is gone.
Though I am not of Mexican or Central American descent,
I hold this tradition with deep respect.
I offer this reflection in reverence to the tradition of Dia de los Muertos,
A practice that inspires me deeply.
What I share today is not a recreation of that sacred custom,
But my own way of honoring my ancestors,
Shaped by my lineage and life experience.
I began honoring this time of remembrance a few years ago,
Guided by a close friend who found deep comfort in creating an altar of her own.
Now each year,
I build my own altar,
Filled with artifacts and small treasures that hold the essence of my family.
Photographs of my parents and grandparents,
My dad's army papers,
A standing cross and rosary beads,
Recipes passed down through generations,
And small tokens,
A New York Mets keepsake connecting me and my father's shared love of baseball,
A golf ball,
A deck of bridge cards,
And the essence of the humor that was a part of all of my family gatherings.
Each object carries a memory,
A story,
And a heartbeat.
Together they form a bridge between past and present,
Grief and gratitude,
Between what has been and what continues.
For me,
This practice is not a replication of a cultural ritual,
But a reflection on it.
It's a way of honoring both my lineage and my desire to stay connected with everything that came before me.
As I sit before my altar,
I think about the struggles of my ancestors,
The visible and invisible legacies that they passed down.
Some of their challenges became mine in subtle ways,
But learning about the hidden stories has helped me understand who they were,
And in turn,
Who I am.
I see now that I am formed from all of it,
The light and the shadow,
The grace and the difficulties.
And even what may not have seemed positive has become a part of my growth,
Like stepping stones on my path.
I do hold gratitude for all of it,
Because I know I too am passing both the strengths and imperfections forward,
In my own way,
To my children and to all who come after me.
Through this practice,
I found my own prayers and rituals,
Personal ways to honor my ancestors and their essence.
Sometimes,
I close my eyes and imagine a beam of light descending from above,
Not pouring through me,
But surrounding me completely.
It forms a column of gentle radiant light that encircles my entire being,
A living thread connecting me to my ancestors,
My guides,
My purpose.
This light secures me whenever I stand,
Grounding me into the earth while holding me in protection and love.
It helps me find my way,
Sometimes when the world feels uncertain or dark.
In my meditations,
I often travel beyond the physical,
Into that sacred space where my ancestors and guides dwell.
I don't have to see their faces or hear their names.
I simply know that they are there,
Always have been,
Always will be,
And I am deeply secured with this connection and this knowledge of their presence.
The altar is both a visual symbol and a physical act of remembering.
Each year,
I prepare a meal from my family tradition,
Chopping,
Stirring,
Tasting.
The process itself becomes a prayer.
Every motion is filled with memory.
And when we sit down to eat,
It's more than food,
It's a connection.
It's a circle of remembrance,
Healing,
And love.
In this sacred time,
I let whatever feels raw to come to the surface.
Grief,
Regret,
Tenderness.
There is nothing that cannot be worked through in the light of awareness and love.
From beauty and pain alike,
Something good will eventually grow.
Now,
I invite you to pause with me for a few moments.
Think of one person or legacy that has been passed down to you.
A story,
A trait,
A habit,
A belief,
A person.
How does this live within you?
Where is it in your body?
Where do you feel this essence,
This ritual?
And how does it get carried in your life?
Allow your awareness to rest on this connection.
The line of love that continues through you.
Focus on your breath.
Focus on the feeling.
Focus on an image.
Focus on the ability to rest and connect.
Be secured and supported in these memories,
In these deeds,
In these events,
In these people.
Breathe in deeply.
Bringing your awareness back into the space where we are together,
To this present moment.
May the light of remembrance guide you.
May gratitude soften your heart.
And may the love that connects generations continue to flow through you today and always.
Thank you for joining me on this Ancestral Reunion Reflection.
I look forward to connecting with you again.
And in the meantime,
May you continue your journey toward peace.
