Honoring Loss, Finding Connection: How Culture Helps Us Heal
- Alyssa Moreno
- Oct 28
- 3 min read
Grief has a way of reshaping the world around us. When my father passed away, I was only fifteen years old — too young to understand how deep and lasting that absence would become, but old enough to feel the way it cracked something open inside me. In the years that followed, grief came and went in waves. Sometimes it was sharp and sudden, other times it lingered quietly in the background — an ache I learned to live alongside.
For a long time, I thought healing meant moving on. I tried to “get over” the loss, to put it away in a place where it wouldn’t hurt so much. But grief doesn’t work like that. It doesn’t disappear when we try to silence it; it waits for moments of stillness to remind us that love doesn’t end just because a life does.
It wasn’t until I reconnected with my Hispanic roots — and specifically, with the traditions surrounding Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) — that I began to understand grief in a new way. Instead of viewing death as something final, I started to see it as part of a larger cycle — a continued relationship that simply takes a different form.
In many cultures, death is not a topic we’re encouraged to face until it’s right in front of us. But preparing for loss — emotionally, spiritually, and communally — can make an incredible difference. It allows us to cultivate acceptance rather than fear, and connection rather than isolation. Traditions like Día de los Muertos give us permission to talk about death openly. They invite us to remember, to laugh, to tell stories, and to celebrate the people we’ve lost instead of pushing their memories away. When we prepare for loss in these ways, we’re not surrendering to sadness — we’re building a foundation for love to continue, even in grief.
The first time I created an ofrenda — a small altar for my father — I felt something shift inside me. I placed his photo at the center, surrounded by marigolds, candles, and the things he loved most: his favorite candies, a favorite song playing, and a few soda cans we’d use to share. As I lit the candles and spoke his name aloud, I felt the room fill with warmth. It wasn’t just about remembering him; it was about welcoming him back into my life in a new way.
Día de los Muertos is a time when grief becomes communal. Families gather to share stories, cook favorite meals, and decorate graves with flowers and light. It’s a ritual that transforms pain into presence — a way to feel close to our loved ones through joy, not just sorrow. In my own experience, this tradition became a kind of therapy. It gave me permission to feel vulnerable, to cry and laugh in the same breath, and to share that experience with others who understood. It reminded me that mourning doesn’t have to be lonely. It can be shared, held, and even celebrated.
Cultural traditions are powerful because they hold space for emotions that are often too heavy to carry alone. They remind us that grief is not an individual burden — it’s a shared human experience. When we engage in rituals of remembrance — whether through prayer, storytelling, music, or art — we’re not just honoring the dead. We’re healing the living. We’re allowing ourselves to reconnect with the parts of our identity, community, and spirit that loss may have fractured.
Reconnecting with my Hispanic culture gave me that gift. It showed me that my father’s presence doesn’t have to fade; it can evolve. Every year, when I set up his ofrenda, I feel closer to him. I see my grief not as a wound, but as a bridge — one that connects me to love, family, and the wisdom of generations before me.
Grief will always be part of who I am. But through the lens of my culture, it has become something softer, something sacred. It’s a reminder that love can transcend time, that memory can be a form of prayer, and that honoring our ancestors can bring profound healing.
If you’re walking through grief, know this: you don’t have to do it alone. Look to the traditions, stories, and rituals that speak to your heart. They can offer the structure and safety to feel deeply — and the community to hold you while you do.
In remembering, we heal. In honoring, we find peace. And in every candle we light, every name we speak, and every story we tell, our loved ones live on.
-Alyssa
Beautiful story!