Not until I became a grief warrior did I discover how much western culture dismisses death.

The grace period seems to be about a year.  During that time you are expected to return to work and other obligations but there is a naïve acknowledgment of how hard life must be. There is also an outpouring of sympathy around every holiday.  Whispers of, “Oh this is her first Christmas, this is her first anniversary….” cards arrive in the mail box and friends drop by.  I am told that some who grieve are given less than a year and others no attention at all.  That is a whole other level of grief.  My heart hurts for those suffering alone.

When year two arrives, there is an expectation that, since we made it through year one, the rest of our time on earth without our loved ones is quite manageable.  Some have even suggested to me that by year two, “I should be over this now”.

Our culture does not like to acknowledge the ugly face of death.  Nor does it like to celebrate it.  In fact, we seem to do everything we can to bury our dead and move on quickly. This is accepted as normal bereavement behavior.  Our culture sucks.

Somewhere in my first year, I learned of Día de los Muertos, a day to honor our dead.  It is a Latin American celebration; an invitation to our deceased to join us from their spirit world for a night of song and food.  What was not to like about this idea?  I put out Zane’s favorite drink and a glass and gave a toast of cheer to him that night.  Later in the season, I met a friend of Zane’s who, from Mexico, said this is her family tradition.  She shared with me how and why they host this annual celebration and suggested I watch the Disney animated movie “Coco”. 

She said, “They nailed the representation of Día de los Muertos.  If you want a simple understanding of this holiday, watch the movie.”

Our family watched the movie.  I cried.  I suggest you watch it.  It encouraged me to do this each year.  So here we are.  The pumpkin carving begins. The décor of bats and witches brooms adorns porches across my community.  But inside, I have decorated my china hutch with orange and yellow flowers, candles and a couple sugar skulls. I have hung pictures of Zane and my other relatives who no longer live on this earth. I have called the family to join me for dinner on November 2nd to sit around the table and celebrate those who we miss.  I will serve their favorite foods; there will be wine and a Jameson shot (or two) and there will be laughter.  

I believe that part of our war with grief is that we are told to move on, get over it or push past it. Death makes people uncomfortable.  We need to create a culture for ourselves and others, where we are not only able to speak of the dead but to celebrate them and keep them an active part of our lives.

Dia de los Muertos is good mourning.