Weekend Notes

I was never one for traditions when I lived at home. But living on my own changed that.

My mom has traditions and superstitions for every occasion. From eating sugar first thing on your birthday to always ensuring daughters ate the wings of a chicken- she truly has a "must do" for every occasion. The second of November marks all souls day. As tradition my family visits the cemetery and place flowers and incense sticks at the graves of our ancestors. Since my parents always chose the unglamorous mid afternoon to visit, my sister and me tried our best to wiggle out of it. Always resulting in little success.

This year, I went along quite willing much to my mother's surprise. Despite the heat and the fact we have to visit a trillion graves I was quite moved by the visit. Moved might be the wrong word.But some emotions cant be put into words. Reading tombstones was like getting a tiny peek into the past. My mom of course had a story after every tomb we visited. "That was Aunt Rose's tomb. She designed her own tomb stone. It was the in thing to do those days." She mentioned matter of factly. I am not too sure of how many of these stories were my mom's imagination. But going back home I thought it was nice we still had such traditions. In this day and age when not many can remember who won the last Nobel, it felt good to remember our roots. It is quite scary that Im starting to see sense in my moms little traditions. I am not sure if I am growing up or growing old