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Today is my birthday and that is my age.
Hmmmm.
It is too weird.
I'm not sure how I feel about this. Really.
Now, however, I understand my mother. She once shared a ritual that she would perform occasionally when she got older (she must have been around 70 at the time). I recommend it highly.
Stand in front of the mirror. Lean in. Stare deeply into your own eyes. And whisper, "Are you still in there?".
Oh, yes. I am.
This is one of my favorite holidays - Day of the Dead. A time to honor and remember and laugh and cry. To sit in the candlelight and gaze again on our beloved ones. To make an ofrenda and leave their favorite things.
I was late getting started this year, but that's OK - I'll just leave it up longer. It's not quite done. I gathered the marigolds from the garden in the dark; hopefully there will be more to pick when it is daylight. Dad still needs his beer; Mom needs some coffee in that cup and Belle likes Snickers.
It kills me to put that cigarette in front of Mom, but that was her thing, so she gets it. It's the same one I use every year, so it's at least 7 or 8 years old, which makes it even more disgusting. Mom, Mom, Mom....
Dad gets the pipe and pistachios, of course. I love that I found the calavera with the horn.
I salute you, mamacita - how you did it, I will never know, but here is a calavera of your youngest son, to serenade you with the drum this day. Thank you for creating such a wonderful man. I promise I will find that Snickers, but for now, here's a Butterfinger.
Do you share this tradition? What did you do this year?
