El Dia de los Muertos

In Mexico and in other Spanish-speaking cultures the Dia de los Muertos is a day to celebrate with the dead.  It takes place on November 2 each year.  It is a day of festivities, food, games, and costumes.  It is thought that the dead celebrate with the community and by all accounts it is a fun and upbeat event.

We remembered a friend yesterday quite by accident - it was strange that Husband decided to Google him after so many years apart, but he was thinking about our wedding and William was our best man.  It turns out that he died seven years ago - under what circumstances we don't know.  He was 30.  

Here he is at our wedding in 1997.  He lived and died in Flint, MI - a harsh environment that many Americans would hardly recognize as The Land of Opportunity.  William's mother died when he was very young, he was raised by his grandparents who lived in Husband's neighborhood.  William's father was a crazy character who would entertain you with stories for hours about his reckless and dangerous life.  He was not a good father.  William lived a tough life in one of the poorest places in the US.  The last time we visited him in Flint was mid-2000s.  He was living with his girlfriend and their children.  A rodent had died in the wall of his rental home and the decay smell was thick in the air.  It was the winter and the house didn't hold heat well.  The children were carefree and happy.  Our interaction was strained - I was uncomfortably out of my element. We felt pity for William and his family and it was not welcome.  We gave the family a gift as it was near Christmas, but it was awkward.  We lived in AZ and had graduated college.  We were pursuing our professional lives and had no children.  William's identity was tied up with Flint and all that entailed.  It was obvious paths had diverged.  Some time after that visit William called Husband.  The last thing he said to Husband was "I love you."  A strange thing considering he had never said that before, nor had Husband expressed such sentiments to him.  They had been buddies who partied and hung out in that city of squalor.  They were close and they had been through shit together.  That was the last time we heard from him - it was nearly 10 years ago.  We didn't know he died until El Dia de los Muertos.  

It's sad - despite the fact we had drifted apart.  We wished him well and certainly hoped for his happiness.  We are not the people we once were.  Change is inevitable, but it still sucks - I wonder about his kids...I wonder why and how?  Another sad footnote to the story of Flint.  

RIP William.