Feast of All Saints

As part of a class assignment, I created an altar for Dia de los Muertos. For those not familiar with Dia de los Muertos, you can get some basic information here - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Day_of_the_Dead.

What a wonderful introspective venture. My altar included some of the traditional elements but also some very personal touches. I created the altar as a tribute to my Aunt Jenny. We called her Honey. She was my maternal grandfather’s sister and died on All Saints Day in 1986. The timing of her death has always been very meaningful for my family. Before I explain the items on the altar, I’d like to give you a little background on Honey. She was born in 1911 in Gardner, MA. Shortly after her birth, her parents took Honey and her older brother, my grandfather, to Lebanon where she lived with her grandparents and brother until 1923. That year, she and my grandfather rejoined her parents and siblings after going through Ellis Island. In her early 20s she was diagnosed with a disease similar to MS. She wasn’t expected to live for many more years. The doctor’s, however, did not count on the excellent care she received from my family. Her sister, my Aunt Rosie, took care of her from her diagnosis until she died over 50 years later. Additionally, various members of my family would go to their house daily to take care of Honey while Aunt Rosie was at work. Honey was rarely alone. As the years went by, the disease caused great changes that even I could see. I remember as a very young child, Honey using a walker. Then, one day, the walker was retired and only the wheel chair was used. During my childhood, Honey would get out to family functions quite often. I have vivid memories of my Uncle Rocky carrying my aunt up stairs at my grandparent’s house for Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving or when we had relatives visiting from Lebanon. Anyone who helped Honey was always gentle – she was so fragile and it was often obvious the slightest movement could cause her pain or general discomfort. As her health deteriorated, she left the house less and less. I remember spending many summer afternoons with her watching soap operas. I wasn’t really interested in them – I much preferred books, but it was time spent with a wonderful woman. She once told me that she was dating someone when she found out how sick she was. She told him to move on with his life and forget about her. She never spoke of it again and I always wondered how involved they were and if he realized how much he missed. Of course, his life would have been difficult, but I believe it would have been much enriched by growing old with my aunt.
Honey was the center of our family. She was the first one anyone called when a family member found out she was pregnant and certainly the first one called when the baby was born. She knew more about what was going on in our family than most of the rest of us did.
While deciding what to add to my altar beyond the traditional aspects, memories swirled in my head. It’s difficult to express how much of an impact Honey had on my life. I don’t know why red roses remind me of Honey. I don’t have any specific memory of her liking any flower in particular over another – it just seems appropriate. The bell beside the picture was the one she used to call whoever was at the house taking care of her. My grandmother (Sittue) would go over every afternoon for years so Honey could take a nap. She couldn’t move by herself so Sittue would help her lie down on her side. When she woke, she’d ring the bell so that Sittue could help her back up.
The glass of water is traditional for a Dia de los Muertos altar. However, my aunt was very particular about her water. She preferred it room temperature or warmer and always had a folded napkin covering it. For food, I placed pistachios and hard candies on the altar. While these are not specifically related to Honey, they are a staple from my childhood – whenever the family was together there were hard candies and pistachios around. I remember my aunt taking a slice of tomato and covering it with more salt than I could imagine using in whole day much less on one tomato slice so I added a tomato and salt cellar to my altar. The doll has no specific relationship to Honey except that when I saw it, it reminded me of her – maybe it’s how I imagined she would have looked in her 20s.











Honey’s rosary and funeral were attended by an amazing number of people for someone who spent most of her life isolated in a small bedroom. At the funeral during the eulogy, my cousin Phil said he knew that Honey was in heaven dancing with God. That’s the picture I hold as my final memory of my wonderful aunt.