the day for all saints (I forget the name in english), independently from religion, is a day dedicated to those loved ones who are no longer with us. Each culture has derived this celebration in some form or another (lots are not even celebrated today). In Mexico (I think) they take to the streets with skeletons of all sizes made of paper-maché, in a kind of rite to celebrate the figure of Death.
Here, in Spain, it seems that anyone who cares about what the Jones think has to be at the cementery and play the act, shed a little tear, clean up the statutory grave, place the flowers (which of course will be more expensive than the rest of the year) and let everybody see just how sad they are about the loss of that person whose grave, memory and name they have not visited since last year (as proven by the amount of dust and cobwebs in our citie's cementeries).
I don't want to be a part of such hipocresy.
The cementeries I would like to visit regularly are far from me. One is in Barcelona and the other two are in England.
What I do wish to do, in the same way I often think of my loved ones, is to try and make everyone think of those loved ones they have lost.
My feelings go out to my father, my nanna, Tory, Uncle Colin, Auntie Roma, Montse and Manel. I don't forget you.
My thoughts also go out to those loved ones of the people I have near me. To name them would be to renew their pain. It isn't necessary. I think of you.
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