You don’t need to go far to remember someone far away.
We Filipinos are known to celebrate the first two days of November—a tradition we inherited from Spain, our colonizers from Southwestern Europe for more than three hundred years. They call it Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), while we call it Araw ng mga Patay.
In the Philippines, you’ll see people from all walks of life visit their loved ones’ graves, light candles, and bring food that their departed relatives loved to eat when they were alive. Since I am thousands of miles away from the Philippines, I honored the memory of my beloved departed by lighting candles and offering food when I arrived home from church.
On my way home, I noticed the trees around my house. The mystery of autumn is present—the beginning of long nights, the drop in temperature, and the changing colors of the trees’ foliage.
Some trees lose their leaves faster than others. The tree in the front yard has already shed all its leaves, something I hadn’t even noticed until today. The middle tree’s leaves are withering in different colors, while the tree in the backyard is still covered in lush green leaves.
The deciduous trees remind me of Wisdom 1:3 from today’s homily:
But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God,
and no torment will ever touch them.
In the eyes of the foolish they seemed to have died,
and their departure was thought to be an affliction,
and their going from us to be their destruction;
but they are at peace.
Just like trees that remain dormant in winter, patiently waiting for spring, the faithful carry hope in their hearts—“and hope does not disappoint” (Rom 5:5).
Pope Francis beautifully expressed this hope:
“Hope draws us and gives meaning to our life. I do not see the afterlife, but hope is God’s gift that draws us toward life, toward eternal joy… ‘I know that my Redeemer lives, and I shall see him.’ And repeat this in times of joy and in bad times, in times of death… May the Lord give it to all of us.”
(Homily, Pontifical Teutonic College Santa Maria in Camposanto, 2 November 2020)
No matter the distance, tradition lives. Memory lives. Hope lives.
And those we love remain close—even when far away.
