Ah...dia de los muertos - the day of the dead. All hail La Calaca as he sashays through the streets, arm in arm with Santa Muerte and Baron Samedi. On this day, we celebrate the great unknown, the crossing over from life to death, and the rebirth to life again.
Families gather at the graves of loved ones, and share feasts and stories. Children eat sugar skulls and dancers sway to the drumbeats of painted drummers. The guardian spirits of the departed are honored with their favorite foods and libations - homes are decorated and altars are lit with pictures and candles and offerings.
And yet, Dia de Los Muertos is actually three days of celebrations, beginning on the 31st of October and ending today, on the 2nd of November. Those who join the lines of revelers clutch marigolds to their chests, symbols of those whom they remember.
The dead are regarded as protectors of the living, and so their counsel is sought in all family matters. These dead demand good behavior of the living, and they have within their power the ability to reward or punish. So death itself is merely one phase in the life-cycle, a transcendent mutation.
At the cemetery, the people quietly disperse among the cluttered tombstones. Bright garlands of marigolds ornament the graves. A trail of their golden petals leads back on the path to the local village. It is strewn as a beacon, a pathway, especially for the souls of los ninos, the children, the littlest angels.
An ancient race that dwelt in Mexico once wrote, "We only come to dream. we only come to sleep; It is not true that we come to live on Earth." Dia de los Muertos translates that prophecy into a mortal manifestation. And, although we all ultimately travel this adventure of life alone, there are times when you may hear La Calaca, the skeleton of death, laughing quietly behind your back.
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