The Day of the Dead
A few weeks ago I knew I wanted to honor the Day of the Dead. I invited women to join us. I gathered marigold garlands, dozens of candles, fabrics in loud colors printed with skulls, papel picado (flags from Mexico), statuary of mothers and children, photos of Hunter, fresh flowers, and incense. I had witnessed this traditional fiesta while living in Mexico decades ago, but as we got closer to the time when everyone would arrive I was overwhelmed with uncertainty. I went to the local farmer's market in the morning to look for flowers (there were none) and ran into a friend I hadn't seen since Covid shut the world down. A minute of conversation and I was in tears-- she was so loving and kind, yet this fucking barrier of social distance made it awkward. I cried all the way to my car. Then looked up and realized I was in the parking lot of Hunter's high school. I just lost it, completely, unglued. I sat there in my car and wailed. When I could breathe again I reached out to my friend Lynn, who also lost her son. I called Amy and told her I didn't think I could do it (the day, the grief, my life). I knew I had called a safe circle of friends to be with me for Day of the Dead, but couldn't fathom preparing, creating the altar. Not any of it seemed possible at that moment.
....
I drove to Dickinson Park, close to our house, where I have gone so many times to walk and pray and cry. It's a wide-open hill with a great view and few people. I laid on a blanket and cried into the earth until I was exhausted. Lynn and I finally connected and I asked for her help, knowing she was exactly who could hold me in the building of the altar. I was so raw. The truth is, I can't do this alone. I need to let my friends support me. I need to trust myself to reach out, to not rely solely on Amy. I've spent a lifetime being self-sufficient. One of the many lessons of Hunter's death is that grief is best healed in the cauldron of community. And so I laid there in the sun (it was an amazingly warm fall day) and allowed myself to be held by the earth for an hour or two. When I gathered myself to go home I felt weak and quiet. Lynn arrived and with Aspen's help, the three of us transformed the back yard into a sacred space. I found energy and strength because I knew they could hold me. Creating the space made me so happy and the three of us were in such harmony as the altar emerged from the supplies littered around the yard.
...
Another wall of overwhelm hit when I had to shift from creating the altar to receiving the support and love of my women's circle. Angela arrived and I took one look at her beautiful face and lost it again-- "I don't know what to do now. I don't know what I need." She gently led me to a private space in the house and asked me to share what I didn't want from this gathering-- and as I spoke that it became clear what I did want. We bought Amy into the conversation so that both of us were clear about allowing ourselves to be held, to not have to be hostesses, to speak what we needed. What a gift to have friends that know how to step in, ask for guidance from us about refreshments, putting out chairs, starting the fire-- and if we weren't able to say what we wanted, they just handled it. What comfort.
...
We shared stories of our loved ones on the other side. People asked us about Hunter, about the impact of his death on our marriage, and about our experiences of him since August 28th. We were held, witnessed, loved, encouraged, supported. Amanda was right by Amy's side for anything she needed. Aspen was next to me. Amy and I held each other's hands as we shared openly able our struggles to grieve together. It was a hard and perfect evening under the full moon in the sacred space of our yard, the same place we were married four years ago when Hunter walked me down the aisle and my mom laughed at Amy's jokes (this was her last family gathering before dying a few months later from ALS). As hard as it was to navigate the day I'm immensely grateful that it happened. Hard is not to be avoided. Hard is important and support is essential.
