Holidays are always a big deal in my family. All my extended family gets together to celebrate the major holidays, and Easter is always held at my parents house. Traditions are everywhere in my family, and especially around the holidays.
One tradition that my uncle has always done on Easter is go out to the cemetery to visit his parents (my grandparents) graves. I’ve never gone, until this year. I took my daughter out with me, and it was so enjoyable that I will be going every year now.
I figured my uncle said a prayer or two while they were out there, then they came back home. That was not at all the case. We had a moment of silence when we first got there, then both of my uncles started talking about memories of several people that have passed away and were buried in that cemetery. I learned more about my grandma, found out more about how many brothers and sisters she had (I had no idea before yesterday), and learned more about my cousin who passed away at birth.
But listening to those stories triggered all sorts of old memories about my grandma. I have a lot of really good memories about her, and felt like I was getting closer to her right up until she got sick in her late 80s. I would randomly just stop by her house and talk with her for hours, and loved every minute of it. We would talk about all sorts of random topics. We used to eat breakfast with her every Sunday, and of course saw her on every holiday. We got to see her most weekends, too, while my dad and I worked on something at the trailer court she owned. She was the nicest person you’d ever meet, and will always have a special place in my heart.
Happy Easter, Grandma! I love you!