Death Parties

“Life and death are one thread, the same line viewed from different sides.” – Lao Tzu

I used to love Halloween. One of my favorite things was going for runs through our neighborhood admiring the beautiful array of fall colors and creative decorations while hearing the crunch of leaves beneath my feet. Not this year. The constant reminder of death and displays reminiscent of my own traumatic images were too much for me. Hopefully that will subside in the coming years.  

The contrast is also striking. Death and gore on every corner, yet as a culture we are generally afraid to touch the topic of grief or death. Ten foot home depot decorative skeletons are just fine out in the yard, but keep the figurative ones tucked away neatly inside your closet. We don’t want to see those. Talking about the real trauma is taboo. Keep it make believe, like most of the social media posts.

How did we get so far from the origins of Halloween, and most other holidays for that matter? Death is not a dirty word. Talking about our loved ones in spirit is not taboo. Halloween is a good time to contemplate death, transformation and connection to our ancestors and friends who have crossed over to the other side.

Tarot cards are often used for guidance. The death card, pictured below, is typically not a welcomed sight. However, it is not a “bad” card. Read the description next to the photo. Death can signal closure or transformation. Where there is an ending, there is also a beginning.

Death, from a human perspective, is mostly difficult and traumatic. It is important to face the reality of this. Ignoring it, in my opinion, contributes to the fact that we have so much war and suffering on our planet. We live in a culture that loves horror movies, yet ignores the horrors of the real world. The fact that we can decorate our yards with graphic carnage but cannot face our own mortality and are unable to sit with each other in deep grief is a problem. Death will come for all of us. Our physical bodies will expire. This life and everything in it is temporary.

The “transformation” our family is facing involves mass chaos and complete destruction. Our entire familiar structure and support system has been burned to the ground. There is not a single thing that has been untouched by this wildfire. However, the flames have illuminated many things that no longer serve us: underbrush that needed to be cleared, failing structures that were causing harm, and areas where we should ultimately be planting more trees. Once the smoke has cleared and the ashes have settled, we can begin to build something new. It will be different and scarred, but it will be beautiful also.

Maisa was always the best at building campfires. She was the first to run around the campsite collecting small sticks to get the fire started. She knew exactly how to build a campfire, and how to keep it going. She would tend to it carefully, ensuring that no sparks flew astray and that the fire was the perfect temperature for roasting marshmallows. Maisa was a faithful steward of the earth, and still is. Lao Tzu, quoted at the top of this post, also said that “the flame that burns twice and bright burns half as long.” Maisa’s earthly flame burned brighter than anyone’s I know.

Campfire which included sacred burning ritual of torn UVA flag

Maisa may have physically left this plane of existence, taking a big piece of my soul with her when she did, but she also left a piece of hers with me. That ember lives inside of me. It may take awhile to get the flames going again, but once it does, I will burn bright and shine as long as I walk this Earth.¹

Maisa left her body exactly one year ago today, on the second day of Day of the Dead (Día de los Muertos). You probably know that Día de los Muertos immediately follows Halloween and that it is a Mexican holiday where souls of loved ones who have crossed over are welcomed back. Some of Maisa’s friends (and their siblings) attended or currently attend a Spanish immersion school, and they have been teaching me about Día de los Muertos traditions. One of them very generously helped me build the ofrenda (altar) pictured below. Others have included Maisa in their own ofrendas, and the school even sent fresh marigolds to our family! Their genuine acts of kindness have touched and soothed our hearts deeply. It means so much to us to know that Maisa is loved and remembered by others, and that her soul is continuing to spread love and compassion.

I encourage you, if any of this resonates, to learn about the origins of Halloween as well as Día de los Muertos and see if you might feel some connection to your loved ones and ancestors on the other side.² I believe they are with us and helping us on our journey here, and you never know what they might teach you. Without death, how would we know to appreciate life?

Ofrenda for Maisa “Rhonda” Rose

Life without Maisa here physically is difficult. I don’t know how to do it or if I will have enough days left here to figure it out. However, I am trying my best, and if you know me personally, you know that I won’t give up easily. Maisa didn’t do anything half way, and I don’t either.

1. There are box fiddles and other tiny instruments that need burning in her honor.

2. I mean no disrespect to our other ancestors and loved ones that I have failed to mention in this post such as Grandpa Jack, Uncle John, Grandma Bea, Nanny and Papa, cousin James and many others. We love you all also.