Christmas Memories - Part III - Cemetery Visits

Although the title of this post makes it sound rather morbid, I actually have good memories of our Christmas cemetery visits. I don't know if this is an old fashioned tradition, or an Italian tradition, as I have never heard my friends talk about visits to the graves of loved ones. But on every major holiday, my family always stopped by the cemetery to pay our respects to family members who had already passed on. We usually started by driving to the grave of my Great-Grandmother ("Big Grandma") and Great Grandfather D'Agostino, where my mother would say the same thing every year ("She outlived him by 30 years!"). My Dad stopped the car and we all said a prayer before moving on. Next we visited the grave of my Great Uncle Joe, his was always easy to identify because there was a beautiful angel statue at the site. Last, we stopped at the grave of my Dad's parents - My Grandparents Sabatino and Santa D'Agostino. My Grandmother Santa passed away before I was born, before my parents were married, and when my Dad was only a teenager. So I never had the pleasure of knowing her - and from everything I have heard about her, it truly was a pleasure. My Grandpa Sam, as we called him, passed away in 1986 so I did have the opportunity to get to know him for several years before he died, including a special trip to Florida with him and his wife, who we called Grandma Rose in 1984. At this grave site, no matter how bad the weather, we almost always got out of the car. We walked down to the gravestone, and stood for a few minutes quietly saying prayers. As I got older, I appreciated this tradition and took it more seriously, I know when I was younger I probably just wanted to get back in the car and on with our day. I now wonder what my Dad was thinking as he prayed by each family member's grave. And I think, in some way, they could hear us, and it made us feel as if they were still a part of our holiday.