On November 1st, a few words about bereavement

In Poland, where I grew up, All Saints Day was always observed with great reverence. You go to the cemetery, meet relatives you hadn't seen in a long time, and do all of this without bringing up grief or sorrow. For many people, it is the only day they visit the graves of their loved ones. Today, it also has become a very commercial holiday, because everyone wants the graves to look as beautiful as possible for everyone to see. Instead of taking the time to reflect, we spend money on candles and flowers.

Cemetery in Jelenia Gora, Poland

When I visited Japan for the first time, I was taken aback by the room in my husband's family house dedicated to the worship of the dead. The deceased’s favorite food was placed on a small altar alongside ashes, and incense was burned. While it initially struck me as odd to dedicate an entire room to people who are no longer alive, it now appears to be a remarkably healthy approach: we want to keep those that passed away with us and normalize our need to think about and be near them.

I also remember my first visit to a cemetery in Mexico, in the small town of Leona Vicario. An old cemetery without neat alleyways gave the impressions that the tombs had been placed there almost at random. But what really amazed me was how colorful and varying in shape these graves were. Skulls and skeletons were painted on the wall around the cemetery to symbolize death, which is unthinkable in conservative Poland and many other contries.

Cemetery in Leona Vicario, Mexico

Although grief and loss can manifest in a variety of ways, I genuinely believe that acknowledging them and talking about them is beneficial and allows healing. As Beth Pickens wrote in her book Make Your Art No Matter What: Moving Beyond Creative Hurdles, “The catharsis of grieving together in a room stays with us, long after we leave”.