Family photos and special objects in an everyday altar-grouping in my bedroom.
Today is Halloween, the Eve of All Hallows Day, a day with roots in the Celtic Samhain (SAW-in), the holiday marking the end of summer and harvest-time, a time when the connection between the world of the living and that of the dead was seen as especially strong. The souls of the dead returned to visit, and food and drink were set out for them. Spirits of all sorts, including fairies not yet sanitized and rendered benign by Disney, were especially active.
The skeleton theme that survives into today’s candy-laden holiday on the eve of All Hallows comes from that connection to the dead; the tradition of jack-o-lanterns with fearsome grins and dressing in costume may originate in protection from those clever and not-always-friendly fairies and other spirits.
Having grown up with the sound of my Grandmother Chris reciting Celtic tales in her Scots burr, I’ve always felt more connected to All Hallow’s Day than to modern Halloween. The idea of a time to remember and honor those who have come before appeals to me. It’s not something I do just once a year, but I appreciate a reminder to be especially thoughtful and thankful for the gifts of those beloveds.
Then when we lived in New Mexico, my dear friend Denise Chavez, novelist extraordinaire and director of the Border Book Festival, taught me about the Mejicano celebration of el Dia de los Muertos with its ofrendas, offerings and altares to honor our dead, and my understanding of these universal traditions deepened.
The sandstone shelf in my office holding objects related to those who inspire my writing
I’ve always been a collector and arranger of objects that have significance to me, whether photographs or pebbles, pressed leaves or my great-grandmother’s antique button hook (visible on the porcelain tray in the photo at the top of this post). Thinking of my arrangements as a creative way to honor my own loved ones–living and dead, gives these groupings special meaning.
All of which explains why I spent part of this week not carving pumpkins into grinning jack-o-lanterns or selecting bags of candy to dispense to sugar-fueled trick-or-treaters (thought I did some of both!) but gathering objects related to my sweetheart, the late Richard Cabe, and placing them on an antique tile-topped table he particularly loved that came from my grandparents’ house in Berkeley.
One of my altars honoring Richard.
A photo of “Collateral Damage,” one of Richard’s sculptures, taken by Molly’s sweetie, Mark Allen; an article about his sculpture from a magazine, the program from his memorial service, a bowl full of pebbles, marbles, and pieces of rusted iron he kept; a paper crane he folded, a piece of sheet metal seamed for a sculpture, his portfolio, a fiber vessel he was fond of by artist and woodsman Rod Porco; a series of haiku I wrote about one of Richard’s sculptures, a candle…. (Later I added some of his favorite food and drink: a Belgian-style Trippel Ale from Fort Collins’-based New Belgium Brewery, an orange peel Chocolove chocolate bar, and a green chile breakfast burrito from Ploughboy Local Market.)
I ran out of space on the table, so I put a few objects on the cube next to his chair. (The paper and styrofoam pieces are maquettes for large sculptures.) Collecting and arranging these pieces felt good to me, not morbid or obsessive. I cried a little, but mostly I enjoyed remembering and honoring the love of my life, reminding his spirit that my home is always his, that his work, his gifts, his life will always be a part of mine.
Another few objects to remember Richard by.
Tomorrow is All Hallows Day, the day with its roots in the Celtic Samhain, and el Dia de los Muertos, a day in many traditions to honor the souls of departed loved ones. It’s also November first; Richard died on November 27th, nearly a year ago.
For me, this is a time of remembering and being thankful for the gift of Richard in my life. And continuing to walk on this new path with as generous and loving steps as I can.
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Speaking of generosity, please be generous in helping out all those affected by Hurricane Sandy. We are each other’s community, near and far….
What a beautiful and moving post, Susan. I love the photos, too.
Penny, I wonder sometimes why the Scots/Norwegian/English cultures I come from don’t have traditions for remembering and honoring the dead. It’s as if after we do the funeral and memorial, we abandon them. I’ve had to reach back to earlier times and reach out to other cultures to find traditions that resonate for me. Did we lose them in adopting Christianity or in coming to the New World? I don’t know the answer to that, but it troubles me, mostly because we deal with death so badly. Do you have thoughts on that?
Susan, I wonder the same thing and have been drawn to ancient Pagan/Celtic rituals and beliefs as a result. Unfortunately, I get so caught up in the day to day busy-ness that I forget to stop, breathe and remember. Your blog, which I found very recently after reading and being profoundly affected by Walking Nature Home, helps me come back to what’s important. Because of this post, today I am fondly remembering my father who died in November 1986. Thank you for that and for sharing your life and truths.
Suzanne, I am touched and glad that Walking Nature Home “spoke” to you, and that you found your way to this blog/community. I think we all get caught up in our daily busy-ness. As humans, we invent rituals to remind us of what matters most in the midst of that daily rush and bustle. I find that my altar-like groupings of special objects help me remember to stop and honor and celebrate live and those who have inspired me. Before I begin writing every day, I greet my loved ones and my familiar objects, thanking them for their company and inspiration. That’s my ritual–what would yours be? Blessings to you, and to your father–may his spirit smile on you always….
Dear Susan, thinking of you. I happened to notice your beautiful altar-groupings and remember being very touched. I became intrigued of ofrendas while living in California. Honoring our dead is important and we all have our own ways of doing so. One of the first things I do after a move is to create my alter in memory of those I deeply love and miss. Every day is a nice reminder that they are still with me. Far as Halloween in the traditional sense–growing up in neighborhoods full of children was so much fun on this day. My mom loved this occasion as I did. Lithuanian traditions and growing up with my mom’s Lithuanian family is a reminder that today, November 1, is All Saints Day. To recognize the souls of the dead is part of Lithuanian pagan traditions celebrating and honoring the deceased. As you honor Richard, surrounded with memories, know that you are loved near and far.
Robin, Isn’t it interesting how we find out ways to honor those who are important using the traditions we are born to and those we pick up along the way? And there is more that is similar in our varying traditions than not. I love the idea that you have your Lithuanian Christian traditions (All Saints Day is the christian version of the Celtic/pagan Samhain) and their pagan roots too. We need to know where our rituals come from, so we understand their heart and not just their surface.
Love your blog, Susan. I have an alter for my parents on a shelf in our “wine cellar”, a nook under the stairs. It is a happy, peaceful place, with a small ash container, photos, and a candle firmly in place. My cousin takes pictures from catalogs to her Mom’s gravesite for gifts. I plan to do this at Christmas for my folks shrine.
Joyce, I can picture your altar atop the wine racks in the nook under the stairs. What a great place to “keep” your parents! I love your cousin’s idea of offering pictures of gifts too. That raises all sorts of fun possibilities. My mom would want wildflowers for gifts; my dad still has her ashes in his closet, but I often put pressed flowers next to her photo in my bedroom altar….
We often make an altar and hold a circle for remembrance. This year we didn’t, at least not in a planned way. (Oscar’s mom had a medical emergency which has rather depleted his energy)., We did take a few moments to wish each other a ‘happy’ Samhain. We both have special people to remember, and I know they have been in our thoughts more than usual over the week just past.
Diana, My sympathy on Oscar’s mom’s medical issues. I hope she’s getting the care she needs and is recovering. I think what’s most important is the intention, not the exact ritual. If we have the time and energy, we use our rituals. If not, we case our thoughts and hearts out in the directions we know they need to go, and that works just as well. Take special care of each other right now….
I like Suzanne’s reminder to, “stop, breathe and remember.” Her not placing the usual comma between breathe and remember connects them more strongly, as though parts of the same act. And, being the punster and wordsmith, I ponder the homonyms: altar and alter.
Autumn seems such a reflective and transitional season, it makes me think our elders where intentionally aware in their celebrating and honoring those who’ve crossed the veil ahead of us.
Eduardo, Thanks for another one of your insightful observations–you see wisdom in the details in language and usage that so often we miss. “Punster and wordsmith” sounds like a job title, BTW! I think our tendency to be reflective in this season when life shuts down for winter is part of why we celebrate those we have lost. We feel the changes happening around us and see the wheel of life turning.
Susan, thank you for so beautifully reminding your readers of the original motivations for celebrating Halloween/Samhain. In my spiritual tradition, Samhain is arguably the most significant holy day, ending the old year and inaugurating the new as we honor those who have passed, setting a place for them at the table and inviting them to join us on the night when the veil between the worlds is thinnest. (It was 3 years ago on Samhain night that Sandi’s old dog vanished without a trace in Arizona the year after a dear friend passed in Arizona. She was a special dog … can’t help but wonder if she followed her friend that night ….)
Blessings
Joe, I think of Samhain as the hinge-pin of the year too. The idea of setting a place at the table for our loved ones who have died and inviting them to join us is a beautiful one. I think that the people we are closest to in life stay close after too, not in any kind of coherent physical form, as the collection of memories and habits and sayings and all of the little details that make up a life. Perhaps that’s what we call spirit or soul. I do know that by being open to their continuing presence, we can continue to feel their company in a way that is difficult to put into words. On Sandi’s old dog, perhaps she was indeed following her old friend. There is so much we do not know about this thing we call life….
remembering is hard and good work. joy, too. and sorrow. not sure if i need anything much to help, but being outdoors means voices are in the wind, the waters.
Velma, For me remembering is very good work. To forget is to get stuck; to remember is to take what I can from the past and walk forward with what is useful. I love to have tangible things to remember by, but if I lost them all, that would be okay too. Like you, I have so many ways to remember, and being outdoors the songs of life are all around me….
A beautiful post as always, Susan. Thank you for the loving reminder of what this particular time of year truly means for many throughout the world and throughout history. Your ofrenda for Richard is especially moving. Hugs
Thank you, Lindy! I hope you are going into the fall and winter snug and ready to read and dream and think until spring comes to quicken life again. Blessings!