𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗗𝗜𝗔 𝗗𝗘 𝗟𝗢𝗦 𝗠𝗨𝗘𝗥𝗧𝗢𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗣𝗘𝗢𝗣𝗟𝗘 𝗪𝗘'𝗩𝗘 𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗧

         

I’ve never been a big holiday celebrator, but lately, things have felt differently as, over the past few months, Brownsville has lost Carlos Cascos, Ben Neece, Ruben Herrera, Camillo Garza, Jimmy Gonzalez and Erasmo Castro. Whether you knew these people personally or just knew of them, their absence is being felt and personally, I've been thinking about the meaning of Día de los Muertos.

Día de los Muertos, celebrated on November 1 and 2,  comes from ancient indigenous beliefs that death isn’t the end, just another part of the cycle. Families build ofrendas, altars decorated with marigolds, candles, photos, favorite foods and they wait for their loved ones.

Brownsville's downtown streets will be filled with music, food, costumed revelers celebrating the iconic Catrín and Catrina figures. At the Mitte Cultural District, the annual Fiesta de Vida invites people into the Old City Cemetery for performances, altar displays, and guided tours, transforming a place of rest into one of reflection and community. It’s not quiet or somber. It’s alive.

Matamoros leans more into the home-based traditions; private altars, pan de muerto, family gatherings. 

This year, with the passing of so many of our friends, the sense of loss feels more personal, more public. What strikes me most about this holiday is how it insists that we stay connected. It doesn’t push grief away, but it doesn’t let sorrow have the final word either. It says; they were here and they are still here if we remember them.