Decoration Day

Day of the Dead, Oaxaca, Mexico

Deep in the Smoky mountains of North Carolina, there is a tradition called a '“Decoration” at a family cemetery nearly every Sunday in August and September. Mid- September is the Mathis decoration.  It is often difficult to keep up with all of the branches of the family trees, but we always remember the Mathis Decoration. 

 In my childhood mind, this annual tradition of remembering our relatives who had passed away evoked memories of wandering through my mother’s garden cutting dahlias and other flowers, long-winded preachers, and country gospel singers. It is the time after the decoration that stands out the most. I vividly recall running through open fields chasing cousins, playing tag, eating casseroles from aunts who arose early to prepare special dishes, and trying to get apples and stubborn chinquapins from trees.

 It’s been many years since I was in the US for the Mathis Decoration. The constant adventure of living abroad is tempered with a longing for home, familiarity, and family traditions. As an adult, I am now drawn to the memories of my daddy walking through the silent cemetery with my boys pointing out five generations of ancestors. Having lived in five countries over the last 25 years, I need that reminder of my southern Appalachian roots. It helps me to feel grounded.

 When Wayne and I visited the general cemetery in Oaxaca, Mexico the evening of November 2, 2018 (Day of the Dead), there was something familiar to me about this unique cultural tradition. The dahlias were replaced with marigolds and candles, but the scene was similar. Children played with their friends, people sang along with a guitarist, and traditional family foods were shared. As we intently listened to a man, sitting on the edge of a tomb, recount stories and share memories of his recently-departed father, I felt less like a tourist who had invaded a private family gathering.

 Mexico’s Day of the Dead celebration has become so commercialized that it is now part of American popular culture. Mass-produced sugar candy skulls and versions of José Guadalupe Posada’s Catrina can be found in a variety of stores throughout the US. I am left wondering if the sacred is slowly being replaced with the profane and will our mountain traditions of decorations endure beyond my generation.