A few weeks ago, Devin and I made an ofrenda for our grandmothers. Even though I’m Mexican, my family has never been big on Día de Muertos. In fact, one of Abbita’s favorite sayings was “En vida, hermano, en vida,” which basically means “If you want to do something nice for someone, do it while they’re still alive.”
As I prepared the ofrenda for her, I could imagine her laughing and shaking her head at me, so I decided to add something she couldn’t refuse… In addition to her coffee and cookies with cajeta, I placed her favorite novel, Domina, which she liked because it is about a woman who overcomes the obstacles in her path to become one of the first (fictional) female surgeons. (Knowing her life story, it’s pretty obvious why that story would appeal to her). I also found the last book we read together, Las Yeguas Finas, so I put that one out, too. I know that if Abbita did come back to Earth for one night only, the first thing she would want is to sit down to read, and I could picture her eyes twinkling at the sight of these two books.
We also made an ofrenda for Devin’s Grandma Pat, with her favorite evening snack: cheese, crackers, and Irish whiskey. She learned to drink whiskey straight because her dad told her that it was better to know how much you were drinking than to risk drinking too many fruity cocktails, and she stuck by that rule her whole life. She also loved Charlie Brown, so we put out a book of Peanuts comics for her and an angel figurine that she gave us a couple of years ago.
One of the hardest things about the COVID-19 pandemic is that we weren’t able to gather with Devin’s family to commemorate Grandma Pat’s life. When this is over, I hope we’ll be able to go to her memorial service and share all the things we love about her with her kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids, but until then, it’s been nice to find small ways to commemorate her life, like making her an ofrenda or buying her favorite chocolate (Fannie May milk chocolate buttercreams) to share.
On the night we made the ofrendas, I thought about how I met Grandma Pat a few months after Abbita died, so they never got to know each other, but looking at their pictures in the candlelight, I could picture them talking and laughing together. It felt magical.
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