This year I was in Mexico for Dia De Los Muertos. Families cover graves with marigolds, set out fruit and soda, photos of prized roosters, favorite hats and cigarettes and dolls. They hire bands and light candles - everything they can think of to let their dead ones know that they are welcome, still wanted, still theirs. They can come and rest, go and return; their beloveds will be waiting. I want to offer that kind of trust. I'll hang oranges and pretzels from the laurel, leave out plates of pierogis, piles of sea glass, hire doves and hummingbirds to sit in all the trees so you know you have a home. You can wander far away across all kinds of borders and return. There's a place for you. You are loved.
You're called for.