Day Of The Dead means remembering the lives

Today is Day Of The Dead, a long tradition in Mexican (and now most Hispanic) culture. The idea is to celebrate the lives of the dead, to honor them. In that spirit (ha!), I wanted to recognize some people who have passed, but who have made a mark in me in the meantime.

First, MM, my grandmother. This is probably the first time I've written about Grandma in print. She was my primary caretaker when I was first born, while my mother worked around the clock. She cooked me the food that I know call "Mexican food" and was always unbelievably kind to and patient with me. I look back at the kid I was, always active. Living in her modest home, I had no idea of the poverty she was in, living on a fixed income. I remember taking crayons and writing on the walls of her kitchen. It's still there to this day. She never got angry with me.

Even when I took one of her favorite records -- I think it may have been her wedding song even -- got frustrated with her over something and colored over the vinyl with my evil crayon. I don't remember her ever raising her voice with me.

As I grew up, she was always there to give me a warm smile, a fragile hug and sometimes $5 on my birthday -- when she clearly didn't need to. I miss going to see her, learning about family history and just being around her positive energy. I think of her regularly, and she is constantly watching over me, I have been told.

The next person I want to mention is JC, my high school journalism teacher. We all have a favorite teacher, but he was more like a personal friend. He took me under his wing early on, recognizing my love of writing, and helped me to turn that into scholarships, awards and even travel. He made me realize the school newspaper was more than just a collection of items about bake sales, but an entire world of ethics and mission.

Thanks to the contests he had me enter, I got to visit Austin for the first time, which shaped my collegiate future. I got to travel to New York for a convention, igniting the travel bug for me. And most of all, he taught me about life. He was a Vietnam war veteran, drafted into a war he didn't believe in. He carried that bitterness but allowed it to transform into wisdom. He made sure to try to shape my life as much as he could while we spent four years in the same classroom.

Later, I became a journalism teacher as well, dedicating my first yearbook to him. It would never have been possible without him.

There are others in my life who have passed, but those are always in my thoughts, always reflected in the decisions I make and the manner in which I interact with people.

So, on this Day Of The Dead, my tribute is cyber in nature, but just as real in every other way. Here's to those you love as well.