Today is Dia de los Muertos…Day of the Dead. A day that we remember those whom we loved and who came and went before us. We honor them with photos and flowers and sugar…three of my favorite things.
But as I was growing up, I was never really a fan of this holiday or practice. For starters, the holiday’s mascot is a skull, or lots of skulls actually, and that just seemed morbid or creepy and I couldn’t get into it. Plus, whenever I type Dia de los muertos, I always type Dia de lost muertos. I can’t make my fingers not do that. Which makes it ever sadder to me always. Because not only are they dead, they are also lost. I do not like that. I also don’t believe that.
I don’t believe that the dead are lost…I believe they are somewhere, somehow…and I definitely know they are still here with us…as much as we try to convince ourselves otherwise, they are always with us. I’ve been thinking about that a lot today.
And today has been weird. A lot of people are flying today, including me. Right now, in fact, as I type this from the air. Also, a lot of us are flying in or out of LAX. Including me, hours later than I thought I would be. I’m really hoping I get to LAX in time to then catch my next flight to my next adventure and the flying will just continue. At some point, I’m not going to know what day it is because I flying backwards in time to then end up ahead of time and I’m missing an entire day in the process. I have no idea what any of this means anymore. Math is hard, y’all.
In related news, the people in first class are all eating something that smells really good right now. And I kind of hate them.
So before I realized there was internet on this plane (HOORAY FOR INTERNET!) I started reading skimreading the next Bridget Jones book….and it’s horrible. Horrible. If you are someone who’s all, duh, of course it’s horrible, it’s stupid Bridget Jones… then, please move on. There is nothing more for you to see here.
If you are someone who actually liked the concept of the first book and was sort of in the same place as Bridget Jones in 1999…but without the Colin Firth…then you will be extremely disappointed. It’s painful. I won’t give away any details if for some reason you want to read this yourself, but as someone who sort of binge watched that first movie (Seriously, the scene with the journal and the snow and the Colin Firth, seriously.) more times that I’ll ever admit, this book was like hitting a brick wall. Only more painful. The writing is ridiculous. (Was it this bad before?) And the plot is just 12 kinds of awful. I’ll just say that I read the whole thing in like an hour (or less) and I’ve had longer and more meaningful relationships with sticks of gum.
In other words, Bridget Jones is lost and probably gone forever. Dead to me.
But on a better note, I’m flying over the earth while drinking Coke Zero and typing to you. So really, life is pretty good.
I already miss this little pumpkin though. I’m starting a gratitude practice this month, and he is at the tippy top of my list of thanksgivings. Oh yes he is. And as much as I already miss him, I’m already feeling the gratitude. (The practice, it is making progress.) And it’s a beautiful thing to be mindfully thankful for things … even things that are getting farther and father away the more I fly on. They are not ever gone. They are not ever lost.
And we should celebrate them with cake as much as possible and whenever we possibly can.