For an understanding of the basics of Day of the Dead, please consider reading our Day of the Dead Symbols and Meanings blog post before reading this...
For years, I've built a traditional Día de los Muertos altar to honor pets, friends, and family members who have passed, but 2023 was very different for me. I hate to start on a bummer note, but my dad died from a COVID-related/Parkinson's disease-related combo on October 27, 2022. Obviously, celebrating his life on November 1st and 2nd, 2022, felt like a bit too soon.
As luck would have it, I learned that if you don't wait at least a year after a loved one has died to summon their soul on Dia de los Muertos, you screw up their whole afterlife...so, phew, crisis averted!
Also important to note is to always put a photo of your loved one to remember on the Dia de los Muertos altar, but NEVER include people who are still alive in any photos! It's a heeby-jeeby thing, for sure, but they say it might actually "push" the person closer to death! Yikes. I think it might be hard to officially document this important information, but I did verify it with my Mexican friends who have been building altars (ofrendas) their entire lives.
Anyway, moving on with my story... My wise Mexican therapist had many things to say during our post-Día de los Muertos session 2 days ago. First and most importantly, she told me that Día de los Muertos is the commemoration of a collective consciousness and, in the Aztec tradition, a form of 'ancestor veneration.'
“What the heck is veneration?” you ask! I asked too. Veneration is respect or awe inspired by the dignity, wisdom, dedication, or talent of a person. OK, I'm good with that.
It's based on love and respect for the deceased as well as ensuring their continued well-being in the afterlife. We covered the history behind why the pre-Hispanic Mexicans celebrated Día de los Muertos in this post, but I want to drill down on the significance of altar building and the benefits of communing with those we have lost.
Let’s start with the meaning of the word 'altar.' It's derived from the Latin word 'altārium,' which means high, and in fact, the altar should not only be a raised structure but should ideally have several levels to it, with the most recently deceased placed at the highest point of the structure.
This placement represents the level of their journey to Mictlán, the Aztec land of the dead. In my dad’s case, since he was the most recent to pass, his photo should have been at the very top. This is because he has not been journeying as long through the eight levels of the afterlife as my dog, Deuce, and my grandparents have. As it happens, I put his picture on the same level as my dog's, but higher than the photos of my grandparents and childhood friend, Julie. I meant no disrespect; it was a rookie mistake.
What I Placed on my Dia de los Muertos Ofrenda
1. A sealed bag of 1976 quarters from the Philadelphia U.S. Mint — Dad's coin collection was massive, and he really enjoyed collecting with the secondary hope of it being truly valuable someday. Putting this bag up there summoned so many memories of his generosity. I had forgotten how many times he bailed me out of sticky monetary situations in college, immediately after I graduated, and when I went out into that big, scary, unprofitable working world. I cried tears of gratitude as I mentally reviewed the long list of times when he was much more generous than he needed to be.
2. Dogs – I have had a lot of dogs in my life, in part thanks to my dad’s absolute love of them. Two of my husband’s and my dogs were as much our sons as any human child, so I put pictures of them up there with Dad – on his level!
Although not technically correct, my therapist assures me that I accidentally scored on this one! Xolos, which are the Mexican hairless dogs (like Dante in the movie ‘Coco’), are considered the leaders of the afterworld pack, and their little souls lead the human souls to the altars de ofrendas and then back again to Mictlán. Happy Accident - Deuce and Santo (albeit not hairless) were my dad’s guides to meet me here in Mexico City! After this revelation I decided that next year I will add Whiskey, Dad's last pup which he loved very much.
3. Salt, but of course! - Salt was so valuable back in the Roman and Aztec times that it was traded as currency, and it's a traditional item to include on an ofrenda. It really does make life tastier! Also, salt is considered a purifying substance, and the color white represents purity "to ensure that the body remains untainted along the journey back to Mictlán." 🤷♀️
Needless to say, I messed up and added olives to Dad’s martini thinking they would pass as salt since they are so salty. This was NOT an acceptable substitution, as it turns out. I'll do better next year.
4. Marigolds, Pan de Muerto, Papel Picado and Candles - These are among the usual ofrenda essentials, and again, we explain the meaning of them here. It turns out I was supposed to also include incense. Again, rookie mistake. #noevilspiritsplease
I think all in all, for my first serious parent-centered altar, I didn’t do too badly. The one thing I absolutely nailed was the communing part—spending time remembering Dad, Granddaddy, and Becca, my dear sweet first friend in life, Julie, MomMom, and PopPop, and of course my pups, Deuce and Santo Crudo. I spent two full nights just sitting there with my martini toasting these awesome people and animals that I was lucky to have in my life for a short period of time. Too short, of course, but such is life... and, well, death.
So there I was in front of my amazing altar, just remembering and drinking. Bad combo usually, but not on Dia de los Muertos! It wasn’t a bad combo at all. Quite the opposite. Hanging out with Dad, who of course had his own martini, and silently running through all the classic stories was amazing. Tears were shed, and guffaws were guffawed, just like old times.
I literally heard myself say, “Remember that time when…” and then realized that no one physically in my realm was going to answer. But I still felt heard. It felt like I had the same camaraderie as we had at Dad’s funeral after-party, when cousins, friends, aunts, and uncles would recall stories and we would all laugh. Sure, now I was technically alone, but I did not feel alone at all. My people were with me in my living room in Mexico City.
The thing that made me sad was knowing that come November 3rd, the altar would be taken apart and life would go on until this time next year. Sweeping away the marigold petals and putting away the candles and framed photos in their usual spots made me tear up again.
But we had such fun hanging out for a couple of days! BOO! And not the ghost kind of BOO, which is cute and fun and scary. It was the dread BOO. Damn the dread. But I gotta go to work and grocery shop and do laundry and all that regular stuff. So, until next year, my loves, I have to say goodbye.
If it's Day of the Dead season when you're reading this, it's time to watch Disney’s Coco again. It's like The Sound of Music—a movie well worth watching every year when the season is right. (Editor's note from 2025: Coco 2 is in the works! Disney and Pixar announced in March 2025 that Coco 2 is slated for theatrical release in 2029! Woo-hoo!
Until then, we'll have to just keep humming that addictive song from the original movie, ‘Remember Me'...
"Remember me, though I have to say goodbye
Remember me, don't let it make you cry.
For even if I'm far away I hold you in my heart
I sing a secret song to you each night that we are apart.
Remember me, though I have to travel far
Remember me, each time you hear a sad guitar.
Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be
Until you're in my arms again, Remember me."
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