Celebrating the Day of the Dead

Frida, who loved to lie on flower pots.

November 1st and 2nd constitute the Day of the Dead celebration, arguably the most Mexican of Mexican traditions. It's a beautiful concept: the dead aren't gone, or lost--every year, on these two days, they come back in spirit to visit with us. Families gather at cemeteries with Mariachi bands and home-cooked meals, whatever was the difunto's favorite food, with bottles of tequila and cartons of cigarettes, photos and flower wreaths. These usually gloomy places are lighted by candles and laughter, a scattered tear here and there, but mostly a feeling of joy.

We lost Frida in April 2012. She was with us for a mere three years, and her absence still hurts. Today I want to feel like she's not gone, not lost. May you, too, feel your loved ones that have crossed over close to you today.

Thanks to Nola and Sugar for hosting the B&W hop.

P.S. -- Got a spankin' new Facebook page for my scribbling endeavors. My very first single-author publication is coming out 2015--I'm doing the wildest Snoopy dance :) I'll be giving away five copies of the new book--of course it involves dogs and dog rescuing--among the first 100 likes on the page. Like I said, spankin' new :)

A Tribute To Frida

Frida came to us in December 2008. Tiny thing with matted hair, thin, shy but not hostile. She showed up at the office parking lot (yes, her too). I saw her two or three times, scurrying around the cars, looking so small. So vulnerable.

I left early that afternoon for some reason I don't remember--usually I worked until 7 or 8 pm. When I walked out of the building, the sun was setting and the air had that peachy glow of Caribbean dusks. I saw her then as she hurried away, out into the street.