Good Friday

My family has a rather odd Good Friday tradition.  We visit my grandmother's grave.  She passed away on Holy Thursday 6 years ago and instead of commemorating the actual date, we remember her on Good Friday.   We plant flowers and say a couple of prayers.  So far, so normal.  Where it gets a little strange is that we bring 9 kids, age 2 to 18, pack a picnic and take pictures including a group one around the grave.  At least one of my nephews brings a skateboard - our picnic spot is hilly and curvy, the perfect combination for a good ride.  It sounds disrespectful but in reality it's not.  The kids know that it means a lot to my mother so they treat the whole thing with reverence (well as reverent as a teen on a skateboard can get).  They unplug from the various devices that dominate their lives and they ask questions and listen to the answers.  They get a sense of history - both personal, my mom talks to them about their ancestors and public, one of the graves on the walk from my grandmother to aunt is John Hynes, long ago mayor of Boston. 

My sister told me today about a character in a book that said something to the effect of, "It is not what rules your family has but the fact that they have rules that matters."  I think it is the same for traditions, it doesn't matter what they are as long as you have them.  Click on any photo to enlarge.

In case you thought I was joking about the group photo.....

...or the picnic....

....or the skateboard.

This reminds me of a movie or a TV show.  I look at it and music starts to play in my head but I can't quite name that tune. 

Isn't this door beautiful? 

One picture from back at my mother's house:  seriously are you kidding me with those eyelashes?

Click here if you're my mother and  want to see more pictures from the day.