Manuel Morales

In 2018, on November 1 the copal (insense) wouldn’t turn on. We needed it right at 12pm to receive our muertos from the spiritual world, and my mom almost started crying in frustration. Once it turned on, it was an overwhelming amount of black smoke instead of the gray one - it almost burned my mom’s face. My family was so confused as to why our annual ritual was causing trouble. We didn’t realize then that it was a warning. My grandfather was telling my mom specifically to prepare for an explosion that would be brought upon my family less than 24 hours from that experience. 

It has been 2 years since my cousin passed on Nov 2, and our altar is a celebration for her arrival. We adorned the altar with how my grandparents taught my parents - fruit, candles, bread, cacahuates, food of different kinds. The only difference this year is it’s size, but the traditional elements brought from Oaxaca are always present. However, there is a change within us. Grief has been redefined with an acceptance of our new reality. Healing is still painful. Always will be. 

Today, I am grateful for my culture - the best medicine in the world. I am grateful for the strength and resilience God has blessed my family with. I am grateful for the women in my life - from La Virgen De Guadalupe to my own mother that has kept my imagination alive with stories from Tlacolula.