Vilani was hysterical about this. Her graceful cheeks were streaking with tears and her thin lips were shaking so badly you’d think if was February. My heart sank as I saw this distress ruin the mirth we once had. She just stood there in the middle of grocery isle struggling to breath. My arms curled around her, and I pulled her in close. She did not reciprocate the embrace.

I put her back at an arm’s length and held her face in my hands. “My love, you don’t have to worry about such things right now. I’m not even half way through my twenties yet, so I have a good, long while before I kick the bucket.”

“Maybe to you.” Vilani whined poorly. “Not to me. I’ll still have five hundred years without you. Five hundred years of mourning after you, after every child, grandchild, great grandchild . . . “ Her voice trailed off into the void of anxiety.

I searched my mind, but no answer came. However, my heart gave the answer. I grabbed her by the hand and tugged her along. I brought her over to the large corner of the store and presented the dominating object.

The oakwood structure towered a few heads over Vilani. The small pillars that separated the tiers we made of varnished skulls with tattoos carved into them. Palm leaves and cactuses created a border at the base of the tiers to create a pseudo fence. Behind this fence was an array of photos, intricate drawings, and other objects dating back to who knows when.

“What is that?” my elven lover asked said with raised eyebrows.

I chastised myself for not explaining this before, but I remembered we met in January when this wouldn’t be up. The falling leaves rustled and scrapped outside as the autumn wind howled. Feeling poetic, I used that to my favor.

“For you hear the gust as we approached?” I asked earnestly. She nodded slowly. “That wasn’t the wind, but the voices. The voices of our passed brothers and sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, and even friends.”

“We” I continued “remember them every Dia de los Muertos. The Day of the Dead. Legend states that every year, for one day, our relatives and friends who have gone to their rest cross over into the world of the living to spend time with us.”

“I don’t understand.” Vilani shook her head. “What does this have to do with me?”

“Ah, see?” I felt my face split into a pleased smile. “There’s just one thing that comes along with this. You can only cross over to be with someone if they have a representation of you on the ofrenda, AND they must have known you in life. If both conditions are not met, your soul goes to the final rest. So I’m told. After that, they can no longer cross over.”

I let the words sink in for a moment, and I felt my heart leap when I saw my lover smile again. Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates and her mouth hung agape.

“That means, I can remember them for longer!” Vilani bellowed.

“Five hundred years of seeing you even after I pass away.” I said as I grabbed both her hands. “Five hundred years of family history preserved by you just being you.”

Vilani kissed me hard and hugged my tightly. “Ugh! I feel much better about the you-dying-thing.”

“And dying doesn’t seem so bad if I get to spend so long with our family.”

“Our family?” she looked up at me with hopeful eyes.

I kissed her gently on her head and met her soulful orbs. “Our family.”