On this day of the dead, I want to honor the family members I’ve lost. Over the last seven years, there’s been one significant loss a year.

In 2017, we buried my father-in-law. In 2018, we had to say goodbye to my grandfather; the year after, it was my grandmother. These deaths had such an impact and left void in my life that it’s hard to explain. My grandparents were pillars for me, and losing them shook my foundation, just as my husband losing his father shook his.  

In 2020 a reprieve from the funeral homes but a terminal diagnosis Fuck Cancer isn’t our family motto for shits and giggles. In 2021, it’s a cousin twice removed who passed away; in 2022, it’s my uncle.

In early 2023, I lost someone so dear to me. I live with the pain of missing her every day. She was my godmother, the second mom who cheered me on and always offered support and that reassuring smile. I love her to the moon and back and beyond. Losing her means another of my pillars is gone, and my foundation is so shaky I’m unsure if it’ll ever stabilize again.

Since the May long weekend of this year, I’ve been to four or five funerals, having to say goodbye to aunts, uncles, and cousins.

Each of them deserves to be remembered; I’m taking a moment to light a candle in memory of each of you today, celebrating the day of the dead.