Family Tradition

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Every family has a tradition or two. Some are wild, some are wacky, some are plain and some even quirky. Webster’s dictionary defines tradition as ‘the handing down from generation to generation of opinions and practices; custom; the belief or practice thus passed on’. Traditions evolve over time. They can be old tried and true or they can be a new--- there are no hard and fast rules to developing one. Just whatever feels good, in other words it feels ‘right’.

Our family has a rather unique tradition; somewhat sentimental and yet fun, some people may find it a little quirky or weird. Our family embraces it and finds it is one time of the year which serves to bring many of us together in an unusual way. A gathering of the clan. Thus at this point I would like to tell you how it originated and share our story.

It began many years ago, after World War I. As a young man, my grandfather, returned home after fighting his battles. He had served in the infantry, and spent time on the front lines in the trenches and the muck--- his final battle was at Vimy Ridge, after which he came home with shrapnel in his leg Memories were locked behind closed lips, the stories were kept quiet and the battles never bragged about. If the war was mentioned there was a far-off look in his eyes. Grandchildren couldn’t pry a peep out of him (believe me, I tried).

Now when the veterans gathered to celebrate Remembrance Day this young man felt it was appropriate to celebrate and remember in his own way, and over the years he never missed a Remembrance Celebration. Parades would be held and he was so proud to stand with his comrades. Wreaths laid and the trumpets played. Snow, hail sleet or ice would not keep him away. It was his time to remember, to reminisce and to join with old friends.

As the years passed the celebration was usually the same, and as his family grew so did the number of family members attending this event. Children grew up and soon there was a whole pile of grandchildren coming to watch him lay the wreath. We were always so proud of him. November 11th was not an option, as part of this family you were expected to attend and participate in the service.

Years passed and then came the time that Grandpa passed too. He left a huge gap in the family ring, but he also left a huge amount of love and respect. He had done a fine job, and left some pretty big shoes to fill..

The first year after he was gone was when this fine tradition was born. The family continued to attend the Remembrance celebration but it didn’t feel the same without Grandpa so off we trekked to the cemetery. To visit and tell him about all he had missed. Somehow we knew he would be with us that day. Out came the bottle of rum (overproof, too), glasses were passed around, rum splashed into them and toasts were made. Glasses raised high and emptied with a toast to all who fought overseas. Time would be taken to scrap the snow off the gravestone, clean up the dry leaves and as the rum was swallowed another wreath was laid. The red poppies would stand out brightly against the gray granite, and often snowflakes would soon cover the ribbons.

This gave each of us a time to reflect and give thanks for all he had done. Plus it gave many of us an opportunity to visit other family members grave sites and lay flowers as well. Like all families, we have many that have gone before us. This little country cemetery holds several connections, both family and friends. Our youngsters have become comfortable with visiting and wandering amongst the stones, hearing the stories and learning their history-- both their own and the other families who lie beneath the soil.

Many years have passed since the first toast. Four generations now trek to the cemetery to participate in the raising of glasses. Snow, hail sleet or ice will not keep us away. It is a good family tradition, one well worth carrying on-- it feels ‘right’.

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Copyright 2005

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