Every so often in life we have a profound experience that awakens our sleeping soul and opens the gates of awe. On November 4th, at the end of the annual Dia de Muerto, or Day of the Dead celebration in Mexico, while Amy, her visiting sister Cari, and I were on our way home from Oaxaca we decided to stop at the cemetery in our village San Pedro Ixtlahuaca. The big gate was strewn with huge garlands of flowers as we walked into a sight that took my breath away. The entire graveyard had been cleaned and bouquets of flowers were everywhere⏤covering every grave. In all my life in the United States, I never saw anything like it.
As I walked I was almost brought to tears noticing that all the graves had been commemorated with flowers. In death, all had been forgiven and redeemed and nobody forgotten; including those from the distant past. I intuitively knew that it goes beyond remembering only the illustrious or the well-known; here, every soul is embraced by the warmth of recollection. Even the graves of those who led troubled lives or are unknown to many, are not forgotten.