Anticipating Dias de Los Muertos

Ever since I learned about Dias de los Muertos, I have loved the observance and what it teaches us about the approach of death, our relationships with the departed, and how to honor their lives. I saw the displays today when I ran into HEB after the gym. They made me smile, as always, but also brought a little of the bittersweet. Years ago when I spent October in Guanajuato attempting to relearn my lost Spanish (and it is lost again), the whole city was preparing for the Cervantes festival and for Dias de Los Muertos. The public spaces got spruced up and marigolds began to appear festooning homes. The stationary shops had special decorations available. The markets offered sugar skulls and artists offered calaveras for sale. I have had a Katarina plate up on our wall since that trip to remind me not to fear death but to expect it as part of our lives. I’ve only made an ofrenda once – when we lost one of our cats – as part of a workshop in downtown Bryan. This year I’m thinking about that holiday a little differently. Depending on how Roy’s hospice unfolds, I may create an ofrenda, but he may still be here, so maybe I won’t. Either way, I will probably rewatch Coco and re-read my books about the holiday.

The not knowing is more acute at the moment – none of us ever know, really, when death will come, but this time, we are anticipating it. Three weeks ago, Roy came home from Fort Worth and began his hospice experience. Three weeks ago, I felt certain that he would not be with us much longer and that his hospice time would be very short. The hospice nurses moved him fairly rapidly from the standard hospice pattern into the active dying stage based on what they observed. That phase is usually an hours-to-days situation but can stretch to weeks. Roy’s body apparently decided on weeks. His body always does things its own way.

We celebrated his birthday – the sunflowers finally arrived (a day later than they were supposed to, so that company is on my never-again list) and he received well wishes from many by text or email or phone. There were special audio recordings of piano and poems and we received a sunflower/cat puzzle from Cheryl to mark our birthdays. Roy didn’t want anything special to eat – in fact he didn’t eat much at all – and he mostly slept. But right now, he’s awake and watching baseball on television. Tonight he had most of a banana and some chocolate pudding (yep, it’s back on his menu) and he’s having a bit of Chex mix. He’s still drinking Fresca but it is occasionally displaced by ginger ale. We’ve got a new humidifier churning out an ultra fine mist near his bed; he doesn’t want the ceiling fan.

We’ve written and edited Roy’s obituary and discussed his funeral – he’s decided there should be a celebration of life and it will be at church. He wants everyone to wear their team’s jersey or colors. He picked out some music, and he told me what message he wants to share (and really we need to share that with Pastor Dan and he probably should chat with him directly about it). But that’s as far as it’s gone because we are living in an in-between world. We know death is coming but we don’t know when (and nobody does really). We know this occasion needs to be planned and marked but we can’t schedule it.

Meanwhile, the Christmas lights people want me to schedule the installation for this year. The hospice nurses come daily. The aides come on weekdays. Cathy, Kathy and Becky are here most days to keep me poking along and there are caregivers to tend to non-medical things every day. Things go in a fairly predictable cycle each day. Today is Thursday so I went to the gym and I know it has been three weeks. I’ve sorted all of his paper piles into file folders (the contents still need to be reviewed and sequenced) and separated family memorabilia out to hand-off to his sister.

I took Charles to the vet yesterday because he was throwing up every few days. I hoped it would be a “he’s anxious because of the hospice” situation but it turns out that his labs were not good and he has early stage kidney failure. So we are changing our pattern a little – Charles needs special food so now all the cats will be eating the special food. I checked with the vet to be sure it was okay this morning because Henry really wanted what Charles was supposed to eat, and Audrey thought it was swell, too, but Charles isn’t sure he likes it. He has eaten some, not a lot, but he is coming around to this new food, too. I told the vet, this is Roy’s cat, and I need to keep him as healthy as I can for Roy.

We have several hummingbirds and big bumble bees and a whole clutch of new cardinals hanging out in the yard. There’s also a series of squirrels and a woodpecker or two. The crepe myrtle trees are starting to drop some leaves and we continue to say “I love you.”