Every year, Anita Samaniego Avellana spends hours in the makeup chair and months planning an elaborate costume to transform herself into La Catrina Tejana.
At Muertos Fest in San Antonio, people often stop to take pictures with her, admiring the intricate designs and sugar-skull makeup. But behind the colorful costumes is a deeply personal tradition — one that keeps the memory of her late brother alive.
“To me, she’s the symbol of hope, realistically,” Samaniego Avellana said. “I love the hope and happiness that she brings to people. I love that smile she puts on people’s faces.”
Her connection to Día de los Muertos, the Mexican tradition of honoring loved ones who have died, began with a loss that continues to shape her life.
Her brother died on Oct. 31, 2006, and was buried on Día de los Muertos. Samaniego Avellana said he was the reason she became a nurse and the inspiration behind much of what she does today.
“He was my everything,” she said. “He is really the reason I’m here, the reason I’m a nurse, the reason I do everything I do is because of him.”
What began nearly a decade ago with a dress from her own closet and a sugar skull painted on her face has grown into an elaborate art form. Each year brings a new design, different colors and a new message.
The planning never stops, she said. Even before one season ends, she is already working on the next year’s look.
This year’s design carries added meaning. It marks 20 years since her brother’s death and includes a message of suicide prevention.
“People are just like, ‘Oh, it’s a beautiful dress,’ but it really is a love letter,” she said.
The anniversary comes during a year of other significant family milestones and losses. Her brother became a grandfather this year, and Samaniego Avellana also lost her father.
For her, the tradition is a reminder that life and love can continue after death.
“It symbolizes like there is life after death,” she said.
As she creates each new costume, Samaniego Avellana hopes people look beyond the makeup and elaborate dresses to understand the love and meaning behind them.
She also encourages others to find their own ways to honor the people they have lost, even if that means starting with something simple.
“If you want to be one, just go do it,” she said. “You don’t have to have custom-made dresses. ... Just honor your loved one.”
For Samaniego Avellana, becoming La Catrina Tejana is more than an annual tradition. It is a way to carry her brother’s memory forward — and to share a message that even in the face of grief, there is room for beauty, purpose and hope.
READ MORE:
