Happy Day of the Dead!

Happy Day of the Dead!

I'm not really certain if that's the appropriate greeting but I like the Day of the Dead.

Originating with the Aztec Indians in Mexico, it's a day for family and friends to gather and remember friends and family members who have died.

In Christianity, it's called All Saint's Day to remember and celebrate all of those who are in Heaven, which is a better way of saying, "They're not dead, they're in Heaven!"

* There is no mention of remembering anybody who went to Hell instead of Heaven on All Saints Day who are also dead which is merely the Christian way of saying "Aw, to hell with them!"

I like the "Day of the Dead" better.

It says it like it is.

People I love died.

I'm not big fan of death but I understand and accept the fact that it happens.

Given my druthers, I like to have all friends and family back but that's simply not the way life works.

The Day of the Dead makes time to remember them and to celebrate the fact they lived. This is done by cooking the person's favorite food, having a picnic at the grave and celebrating their lives.

I think that's a good way to do it.

It would take me a month or so to get the celebrations done. Granddad and Grandma Carver, Dad, Uncle Fred, Ricky, Rick, Sheri, Uncle Bud, Granddad and Grandma Elliott, Aunt Regis, Uncle Ruben ... Hell that's two weeks worth of celebrating right there!

And that's just my family!

Bubba, Fran, Chicago Bob, Trolley Joe, Georgia, Bruce Barns, Chester Fawbush, Joe Bridges, Rodger Pack, Sidney Daniels, Dan Sheehan ... SHIT! Naming all of my friends who have died is going to take a long time so that's just going to make the celebration last longer.

Like I said, the Day of the Dead celebration is going to take a month or so in my case!

Though, the truth is hardly a day goes by that I don't think about them.

They're still alive in my heart where I keep them safe and hold them dear. My Dad and I still have beers together, Bubba still makes me laugh, Fran's still teaching me green, Chicago Bob feeds me his great lines when I need them, and Grandma Carver says prayers with me in the middle of the night.

I don't know how I would get through a day without them.

I celebrate them every day so I suppose, for me at least, every day is the Day of the Dead.

It's not morose, macabre or weird that I can still feel Trolley Joe's arm around my shoulders when I'm having a shitty day or Dan Sheehan's always there when I'm having to do something I really don't want or Uncle Fred reminds me when I need to exhibit grace.

As time passes my friends and family who have died become more precious to me and I find myself interacting with them more some days than when they were alive. I delight in them and am increasingly thankful they graced my life. I don't focus much on the fact that they're gone but concentrate intensely that they were here. I would never have become me without them.

It's a good Day of the Dead!

I'm already celebrating!

How are you going to celebrate it?
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Ready for a good read? My new book "Sandy Bottoms & Duct Taped Hearts" is now available at http://www.meellc.com/wordpress/newbook/

Welcome to love

Having donned the black robe, the tarnished man at least gives an initial appearance of holiness. He stands waiting as they approach one by one. Upon reaching him, half take their places on his right and half on his left. He watches each of them, locking eyes and witnessing their smiles. He glimpses faces in the audience though remains focused on the procession.

Finally, he sees her, standing there more beautiful than she's ever been though she was already beautiful. She walks slowly, purposely, full of joy. The ocean breeze blows wisps of her blond hair, the setting sun radiates her face and a choir of seagulls sing praise.

She is standing before him now but her eyes are on the man standing to his left. Their eyes are locked as they share a smile, before holding hands, making vows and giving themselves completely away. Then they turn and stare at him in anticipation.

The ones on the right and the ones on the left turn and face him too, also waiting.

People sitting or standing around the semi-circle cock their heads or crane their necks also setting their eyes on him, straining to hear as the ocean breeze blows, waves roll onto the shore and seagulls sing.

It is the most pregnant of moments and it hangs there.

What can he possibly have to say?

He's not the most creditable person on the earth when it comes to marriage. Everyone witnessed his own heart shatter into millions of pieces and slowly put together again by the few who loved him anyway. They watched him reluctantly pull himself up and stand on wobbly knees. Surprise hit them when he began to dance and it quickly turned to shock when he himself stood where the couple are standing now.

Say what you will, he still believes in love.

He steals a glance at his wife sitting in audience reaffirming their own vows and sharing their own smile in the pregnant moment.

Then he clears his throat and gets down to business.

Looking at his little girl holding the hands of the man she loves, he says to the fishes in the ocean, the people on the beach, the seagulls in the sky, the audience sitting or standing, the wedding party and to God himself ...

"Dear friends, welcome to love."