I am a sucker for traditions.
We have several in my immediate family.
We all sit in the same seat every night, and have for 10 years.
We also have them in my extended family.
Some of them come from growing up with two sisters (the assigned seats) and some come from our religious faith.
This past weekend, my nephew and godson made his First Holy Communion.
The tradition of it goes back to Jesus' last supper with his 12 disciples. We continue it until we die.
My nephew was very nervous, as was I and, I am sure, every single one of my family members when we made our own first communion. But it is a tradition that we all carry forth. Our god parents show up and our parent's throw a party to celebrate.
This past weekend, we celebrated Gabe's first communion.
My sister cried (tradition is that the mother's cry...I did at both of my girl's first communions).
We gathered for the obligatory family photographs.
My sister threw a great party and we ate too much (again, tradition)
We continued our tradition of being a family that works together.
My sisters both live away from me. One lives two hours away and the other almost 7.
When we get together, though, we don't miss a beat. We pitch in with chores and finish sentences. This weekend was no exception.
My oldest daughter has started doing that as well. She made cupcakes for her godmother's (my sister's) party. She helped get the kids where they needed to be. She listened as we hung out.
We have lots of traditions in my family. Religious and otherwise.
I think they are the glue that holds us together. Many are silly and inane,
but they too have their place along with the serious and sincere.
I am grateful that they are being passed down to the next generation.