To many, the Day of the Dead in Mexico and in Mexican and Central-American communities in the U.S., is a chance to celebrate life. The lives of those who have died but are not forgotten. BuzzFeed staffers remember those who had an impact on them.
Jenny Chang / BuzzFeed
Norberto Briceño
This past summer, my abuelito Pastor Hernandez passed away. He came from a little village in Mexico called Aljojuca, a couple of miles south of Mexico City in the state of Puebla. He was a barber and everyone in the neighboring towns would visit him for a cut. In his heyday, he played in a cover band, often touring cantinas throughout Mexico in the '50s and '60s. He was a father of nine kids, most of who would go on to pursue a better life in the U.S. In his last days, after sensing his health was failing, he would often go to the cemetery and talk to my grandma, my late abuelita Conchita, whose tombstone laid next to his reserved plot. He would talk about his day and end every conversation with, "I'll see you soon."
In his final hours, as my grandpa laid resting in bed, my uncle went up to him and whispered, "Are you ready to see mom?" He held on as long as he could. Finally, he gave in and answered, "Yes." My grandpa passed away on a Saturday morning. I like to think he's somewhere holding hands with my grandma.
—Norberto Briceño, BuzzFeed staff writer
