
Exactly one week ago, I woke up to loud noises across the street. To anyone else this is normal, but for me, it was strange because across my street is a huge cemetery. Nothing loud ever happens there.
I got out of bed and pulled back the curtain, which revealed hundreds of orange flower chains covering gravestones. About ten people were arranging candles on every single grave and setting up tables with framed photos of deceased loved ones. Music was playing as they set out pan de muerto (a type of pan dulce) and conchas, and hung up skull decorations and flower chains from tree to tree.
Ah. Dia de Los Muertos, of course. It’s a Mexican holiday that happens on November 1st and 2nd each year and celebrates deceased loved ones by creating altars, food, flowers, photos and storytelling. It’s a joyful occasion that acknowledges the connection between life and death, with the belief that the spirts of the deceased return to be with their families on this day. (If you want to learn more about it you can watch the Disney-Pixar movie, Coco, one of my favorite movies of all time).
This family had taken upon themselves to decorate the entire Mexican side of the cemetery and host a huge celebration. Later in the day they brought musicians and set out about 60 chairs for the family to gather.
I had a front row seat and sat on my balcony watching them set up. Later as people arrived, I saw everyone held a framed photo in their hands and they went up to the ofrenda (or altar) and placed their relative’s photo there.
There were bright colors, marigold flowers, and sugar skulls. I heard laughter and music. I could hear them exchange stories of loved ones.
Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?
As I watched the celebration unfold, it dawned on my how beautiful it is to see families and friends gathering to remember ancestors who have passed on. Each morning, I wake up with the view of the cemetery but today I looked out and heard music, saw art, imagined their struggles, and was curious about their stories.
It reminded me of the line from the musical, Hamilton, “Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?” Our actions alone don’t determine our legacy. It’s about how others remember and share our lives after we are gone. Dia de Los Muertos is a day when these stories and memories come alive. Where we can think about our ancestors even if we didn’t know them. Where we can be grateful for who they were and the lives they led before us.
We don’t get to choose who lives and who dies. Life is fleeting, and we never know when it will be our turn. But in the end, it’s not about living or dying— it’s about the story that survives us long after we are gone.



Life and Death are One
I often walk through the cemetery. It’s peaceful, and I enjoy sharing my crazy life stories with those who have passed, imagining it might keep them entertained. Or I ask them for advice because I’m sure they have wisdom to share. (Yes, I really do this). Sometimes when I have challenging days, I wait until the sun has gone down and I creep inside the cemetery at night and lay in the grass looking at the stars. (I did this two nights ago... I know it sounds creepy but I find it grounding and calming!)
Over time, I’ve come to know the layout of it quite well. Most buried there died around age 40, with only a few reaching older ages. There is a section where many infants rest and areas where entire families lie side by side. Many graves date back to the mid-1800s or early 1900s. Given Texas gained independence from Mexico in 1836, it’s likely that many buried here lived when this land was still Mexico.
The families celebrating Dia de los Muertos today may not have personally known those buried here, yet their stories and photos keep their memory alive across generations. They celebrate everyone, from those with short lives on this earth to those with longer ones.
As Isabel Allende says, “People die only when we forget them.” Who will interpret and carry our story?
Poet Khalil Gibran captures this connection beautifully, “For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.” Dia de Los Muertos reminds us of the connection between life and death. They are intertwined and part of a single cycle none of us can escape.
The ancient stoics have a phrase— memento mori, meaning, “remember you are mortal.” Not in a dark sense, but as a call to live with urgency in the present. Acknowledging we each have an unknown time on this planet can inspire us to live a story that endures long after our physical lifetimes.
I love that cemetery in Terlingua, too! And Coco! And how wonderful that you visit the cemetery at night and look at the stars. And that your neighbors brought Día de Los Muertos right to you!
What an incredible and really meaningful article 👏❤️