Traditions

Traditions... we all have them... in some form or fashion. Sometimes they become habits, obligations and hopefully cherished memories that keep you grounded, and loved. I grew up with a calendar of traditions that I innately carried over into my “grown-up” home.  Over the years there are many memories of Chuck and the boys fussing over the traditions I was making for our family, pretty much the same way I did with my mom growing up. And to be honest, there are many times I think my family thought I was “cra-cra”. And in all honesty sometimes I was. Yet today they define us – whether it’s the Prime Rib Roast at Christmas with Asti filled in everyone’s glass, Santa gifts under the tree Christmas Morning, Fasting every Friday for Lent, Grace before our meals even when we are in a public restaurant, A door hanger for each season, a hand tied bow on a gift, Wearing a Green Irish pin on St. Patrick's Day, The special “cake plate” for the cake from European Delight for your birthday, Sunday dinners, Mom yelling “Wiiiillll” or “Big poppy” at the baseball games, etc. 

When I moved to Kentucky there were so many traditions that our community introduced me to. Keeneland dress and races, homecoming traditions at UK, the tailgating, and the list goes on. Perhaps the one that has touched my heart the most is a funeral procession. I know this seems depressing to think about but I see so much beauty in our community when a family drives to a cemetery.  This week I was reminded of a Southern Tradition and it has left me still deep in thought, deep in pride and deep in hope. Recently we celebrated saying good bye to a dear friend. I still remember the long procession line of cars to the cemetery from the church funeral service. As we proceeded down the street, I watched every car on the opposite side of the road stop - some on the side of the road, some in the middle of the road and others on the wrong side of the road. And then they waited... until the entire procession line of cars passed... not just after the limo with the hearse passed.  I can still feel the tears falling down my face, with such emotion in my heart, as we passed each car. They didn't know her. They didn't hear her laughter and see her passion for life and family. They didn't need to.... it was their village losing a member of their tribe and they honored her and all those that knew her. In fact, one guy actually got out of his car in the pouring rain and put his hand over his heart and watched each car pass.... .And all I could think was "this is My Old Kentucky Home .... and there's nothing like it. This tradition melts your heart with good stuff. Don't change Kentucky..... don't stop loving and caring about your people! 

Take a moment to think about your family traditions. What do they mean to you. Why do they mean something to  you? And how are you keeping those traditions alive. I am very lucky to be able to see the persistence of hard work to keep those traditions and ingrain them into the boys.  as a family we all see the beauty and the value of such traditions. And Kentucky is teaching me so many new ones. Can’t wait to hear more about your traditions. Tell your stories…..the world can learn from you!