Remembering Oscar

I wrote about this roadside (actually, street-side) memorial a year and a half ago, when I first started riding the bus to work.

It's been on the median at the intersection where I catch the bus in the mornings for a very long time. I can't even remember when I first started noticing it, but it would have to be more than 10 years ago. Perhaps even a lot longer than that.

Inspired by this long-term commitment to a lost loved one, I decided last year to record the changes in the display and show you a year's worth of these lovely expressions of grief and never-lost affection.

The photo on the right will give you an idea of the memorial's immediate environment. And it also shows how they sometimes branch out and make the utility pole on the median part of  the testimonial. (Click on any of these photos to see more details of the displays, obviously constructed with such love and care.)

I've learned a lot about this family through these photographs. For one thing, Oscar was 18 years old when he died. That sad, sad, fact is noted on the Easter ribbon tied to the pole in the picture above.

That main Easter display is also an indication that this memorial isn't just the work of a grieving mother, as I had originally speculated. It's a family affair.

You'll see plastic eggs with many different names on them in the "grass" at the base of the display.

Last fall I first knew for sure that a whole family was involved, when I saw this display:

"Mom" is represented on the candle, but a sibling must also have taken part in making the memorial.

One of the most poignant aspects of taking this series of photos was following this tale of a family's love through the changing seasons. Since the family is Hispanic (another thing I've learned is Oscar's last name—Morales) it's not surprising that they would set up a Dia de los Muertos display around Halloween.

This really wonderful Mexican holiday celebrates the life of departed loved ones. I used to think it was a little creepy (probably because of the calaveras). But as I've learned more about it through living in San Antonio all these years, I've come to appreciate it in the proper spirit. It's a creative way of remembering details from a loved one's life.

And of course the other major holidays, secular and religious, are marked as well:

St. Patrick's Day

Valentine's Day

Fourth of July

and, of course, Christmas

And the seasons pass, not ever completely erasing the pain of the family's loss...

Winter gives way to spring...

...with another Valentine to send...

...and another Easter...

...then comes the heat of summer...

...sometimes soothed by a breeze to blow the pinwheel...

...and sometimes not...

...then it's fall again...

I can't begin to imagine this mother's pain (her name is Lupe, something else I've learned from the photos), but I can feel the importance that the place of her son's death must have for her.

I'm so moved by the fact that these loved ones have continued this work of remembrance (and caution—the public service that it provides in reminding drivers to be careful) for such a long time. I'll continue to catalog their memorials as a way of expressing my condolences. To Oscar's family.