

My Day of the Dead Altar
I've never set up a Day of the Dead Altar all of my own, but I felt like this year was a good one to try that out. All Soul's Day wasn't really part of my childhood experience with faith, religion and ritual. But it's a celebration I've been drawn to in my adult years. I bought the candle for this year's altar at Fiesta, a grocery store in Houston, where I grew up. They have a special section of items used in traditional rituals.
The overall intent of my altar this year is to honor my ancestors, friends and pets that have passed on. I've also welcomed one new soul into my close community this year!
A little about select altar items:
-Compass.
This was a gift from my paternal grandfather, John William Allen, for my 6th birthday. I feel a connection to my grandfather and father whenever I see this compass. Both men were/are nature lovers and loved hiking, camping and exploring. But they were Boy Scouts, and in all aspects of their lives they were and are always prepared. I'm grateful to them for giving me
a sense of direction, teaching me to be grounded, and empowering me with tools--both real and abstract-- that always help me find my way. On the back of the compass is a yellowed label in my mother's handwriting: "Elise Allen". I took it to show-and-tell in 1981 and she didn't want me to lose it.-Historic Texas Cemetery Dedication Announcement for the Allen Cemetery. The Allen Cemetery is located in Haslet, Texas, near Fort Worth. In the late 1860s the burial ground was established for Isaac Sumner Allen's death in infancy.
"Also buried here are relatives, descendants, and neighbors, including two confederate veterans." I've included this announcement to remind myself that my ancestors also honored their ancestors, that my spirit has been in America for a long time, and that I shouldn't forget the intentions--both good and bad--set by my family.-How to Solve Problems in General Chemistry. This text book belonged to my maternal Grandfather (Grandpa) Benjamin Franklin Davis.
It was published in 1941. My Grandpa was a successful chemist who worked mainly for Champion Chemical. He traveled to the Middle East and worked in Iran and Iraq before the "shah fell". I can still remember sitting in his lap and learning words like "AbuDabi" and "Sawdi". He always drank a vodkatonic and greeted people with "Howdy". I almost majored in Chemistry in school and I think he was a little sad when I chose Biology instead. This book reminds me that school is important and that if you get stuck, you can often read or research your way out of a problem. I chose to come home for a week to be with him while he was dying and I spoke at his funeral in 1999.
-Unicorn Box. One of my earliest memories is retrieving quarters from this box when I went to visit my Grandpa and my Grandmother, Jane Barton Davis. She died suddenly, when I was six. It was my first experience with death and often informs my creative writing. I have vivid memories of her home and specific memories of her both alive and happy, and sick and sad. She treated me like her treasure. This box reminds me not to take gifts for granted, but to always trust that those who care about you leave things behind with no one in mind except you. If someone thinks you are special, don't take it for granted.
-Photo of Meme. My paternal grandmother, Ellen Frances Allen, (we call her Meme) died in 2005. She was an amazing genealogist and a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution (which means I'm eligible too, although I haven't followed up with that yet) . I'm just beginning to benefit from the rewards of her tremendous efforts traveling the country to visit graveyards, churches, and distant relatives. Ellen and I shared a knack for overwhelming anxiety, but also a desire to build connections and families and a longing for a sense of place. She and my grandfather survived the Great Depression and had were very conservative with all resources; a lifestyle I've tried to repeat as much as possible. They longed to spend more time with me during my childhood, but circumstances didn't allow for it. I'm grateful they believed so fervently (if not fundamentally) in an after life. It is easy for me to imagine them as spirits I can speak with frankly and directly, even though they have passed on.May all those who came before me rest in peace and may I continue to value the lessons and wisdom they imparted in the time I had with them


