To Mis Muertitos: An Open Letter about Día de Los Muertos
The time of Día de Los Muertos is a special time. I remember officially learning about the holiday in middle school during a singular history class dedicated to a cultural curriculum. The hour was filled with an Oaxaca Day of the Dead documentary, a region I’ve never heard of before. I have a long lineage of Michoacán roots that I barely knew of at the time due to the fact I wasn’t allowed to visit during the high times of cartel presence. Learning that day about a beautiful city with an indigenous representation was by far my best history class in my Pre-K to Collegiate educational career. I recall engraving the name Oaxaca in my head so I could ask my parents later about it. I remember having pan de muerto in class that day. That day I felt seen, educated, and well-represented in history class. But I also didn’t really know at the time that I was being taught my own culture. It was school, where you learn random things that you most likely won’t use later in life. But as an adult,
I reflect on that day as a pivotal moment as a Mexican American girl.
Without really knowing, we have had variations of ofrendas in different formats to honor the angels of my family. My mom was and is big on remembering past loved ones. In her current home, her ofrenda is up 24/7 365 days a year. It has pictures of my brother, sister, grandfather, uncles, aunts, and most recently, her mother. During this time of year, we garnish extra with a tower of cempasúchil and décor for the holiday remembrance.
This tradition has been implemented in extensive beauty of colorfulness, enlightenment, and peace as the years grow of celebrating these days as an adult. I can truly say I have learned from my peers, media, and my community through conversations and events. Although difficult to pass down non-Caucasian truths in history and traditions of indigenous groups, I’m glad to have learned, or be corrected, of Día de Los Muertos through social media, movie representation, and not going to lie, TikTok. It is a small representation of Mexican culture in these sectors. I’m grateful to have and follow a digital and physical hub of intelligent and well-crafted individuals doing the work of educating ourselves because Día de Los Muertos deserved more than one 45 minutes in 7th grade in the 17 years of education.
With this year being my first ofrenda including my abuelita, I hold a tender but at peace heart cherishing her in this format. She was my piece of México I can never replace. However, I know she’s reunited and healthy in ways she was unable to here with us. I can never think of rebosos without her. She loved and valued our relationship so much. When I needed to not think of my busy days, I would call her. Of course, she talked most of the time as she was a chatter box. But I loved every second.
To an extent, this holiday I feel to me is a way to come to peace with death. It’s a scary reality that is embellished to aid as a crutch to get me through at times. The magically thing about a crutch is that over time, you don’t need it forever. The grief will still be there, but with time, we heal and honor our ancestors for us to pass along their lives and the impacts it had on ours. It’s a symbolic holiday to never forget and truly reminisce on the macro and micro qualities of each soul. From what they liked to eat and drink to what picture you feel best represents them; I give mi cempasúchil flowers to mis muertitos.
As I continue my journey being on the soil that embarks so much of my ancestor’s history, a goal of mine is to visit México during this time of year. I need to see my culture firsthand outside of a history documentary.
