My brother handed me an envelope this weekend. He was tidying and found some old photos he’d taken 15 years ago of my first boy Monty. I’ve never seen these images of him. It’s been 11 months since his passing and it still hurts. But I have to admit when I learned of this aspect of Dia De Los Muertos yesterday it brought some comfort. Today, I’m grateful for the pain because it comes out of love. But god I miss him.