11/02/2025
🧡DÍA DE LOS MU***OS 🧡 (continued in commments below)
For those of you who know me well, I absolutely love celebrating my October birth month from day 1, letting it spill into mid November with the last celebrations of friends trying to fit into a busting calendar of parties.
October 1 is the day I married the man that the universe had promised me long ago. In the forested hills of Catalunya, on the day of the vote to sucede from Spain, with the last sparkling crystals of heavenly tears cast from my mama as the sun finally broke through, guiding me down the soft grass aisle, flanked by decades long friendships.
Exhaustion is tempting by the time my Scorpio birthday draws near but always held off with the pulsing joy of tying a ribbon on another blessed year and ripping open the wrapping of a brand new unknown.
Yet, every year for the past 11 years, instead of eagerly dancing amongst the new year’s exuberance, I sit silently, tearfully, in its mournful beginning of Dia de los Mu***os, a week long remembrance.
My universe knows how to tame my lust for life long enough to be reminded of all the courage, strength and love it took for me to live another year.
You see, my birthday is October 26th, a holiday within my immediate family, and the week of remembrance begins the next day. But, it’s not just the calendar that pulls me into a removed contemplation.
It’s my reality. ⤵️
