We are all keepers of stories. Each of us carries the legacies of those who walked before us, weaving their narratives with our own, often guiding that torch beyond what they might have envisioned. Día de los Muertos, a vibrant celebration rooted in Mexican tradition, is more than just a remembrance of the dead. It’s a reminder that love transcends realms and that those who leave this world never truly leave our hearts.

An ingeniously rooted, primarily Mexican holiday, Día de los Muertos celebrates loved ones who have since passed. For over 3,000 years, the annual event has occurred on the first two days of November. It includes the tradition of curating an altar, better known as an ofrenda (Spanish for offering), to invite those who have since returned from the body for a celebration. While the holiday has become more popular and modernized thanks to the Disney film Coco, the original practice includes placing a photo of the individual who has passed away on the altar along with their favorite treats or anything that can serve as a reminder of them.

One of the primary purposes of the celebration is to ensure that loved ones know they have not been forgotten despite no longer being physically present in the earthly realm. 

Dìa de Los Muertos, San Antonio Style

For over a decade, San Antonio has celebrated the holiday through its Muertos Fest, a weekend filled with Dìa de los Muertos activities, including the Day of the Dead River parade, which took place on Oct. 25.

Throughout the years, the annual event has become the largest Day of the Dead celebration in America. On Oct. 26 and 27, attendees immersed themselves in the culture through live music, face painting, food and more. The real eye-opener for the weekend event was 83 ofrendas hand-selected by the holiday committee to be on full display for those attending.

In its 12th installment, the Muertos Festival included ofrendas that honored passed loved ones, including, but not limited to, pets, iconic celebrities, gun violence victims, veterans and a host of other altars curated to pay homage to the dead. 

As someone not Mexican or of Mexican descent, celebrating this holiday was truly eye-opening for several reasons. Still, the most obvious is how much it aligns with my spiritual practices of reconnecting with my loved ones who are no longer present in the flesh.

How did this event reconnect me with my ancestors?

The ofrenda during the event that resonated with me the most was Nuestras Abuelas, which translates to Our Grandmothers. It particularly touched me because I lost my maternal grandmother on Nov. 2, 2018, which just so happens to be the final day of the Dìa de los Muertos holiday and the day set aside to honor departed adults who are loved ones. In the culture, Nov. 2 is known as Dìa de los Difuntos, while Nov. 1 is referred to as Día de los Angelitos or Day of the Little Angels, to honor loved ones who died as children.

As if Nov. 2 wasn’t already highly significant, it is also the day before my birthday, Nov. 3, which has brought a mix of emotions since losing my grandmother, whom I affectionately named GaGa, six years ago this year.

Of all the ofrendas on display during San Antontio’s Muertos Fest, the community altar was also striking. It engrossed those attending, like myself, to participate in the practice by leaving offerings for their deceased loved ones.

I decided to leave a photo of my GaGa at the altar, and in doing so, it left chills up my spine because since her passing, I often feel closer to her than ever before, and this was one of those instances. 

As a child of the early 1990s, when there wasn’t fancy technology to prevent babies from being swapped, or worst-case scenario, kidnapped from the hospital, from the moment that my mother, her youngest daughter, gave birth to me, my GaGa followed and watched her first granddaughter (me) like a hawk, ensuring that I was protected and looked after. 

Ironically, she passed just hours before my 26th birthday. As the anniversary of her death approaches, along with my 32nd solar return, this experience at the Muertos Fest was a lovely reminder that she still fiercely watches over and protects me from the other side.