Gong hei fat choy!
Jan. 27th, 2009 12:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morslaHappy year of the Ox to you all.
Traditions are strange things. After my grandparents died, I went with Dad to the Springvale cemetary to place offerings on their grave. Dad was following what he had seen his father doing, though he knew he was missing many of the traditions... his parents had never explained things fully before they passed away, and none of his other siblings had taken an interest. For him, the act of taking time for the rituals was more important - showing respect for the dead, and remembering them.
Before he passed away last year, Dad told me that he didn't expect me to continue the customs after he was gone. They had become a game of chinese whispers, changed by each generation, and he didn't want to burden me with them. I still intend to keep them alive, though, because they are a part of our family. Mum has kept the shrine, now with two generations of offerings on it. We still burn incense, and leave fruit on the altar. After we move down there next week, I will leave them a proper meal, with pork, chicken and wine. It will be a week late, but I hope they won't mind.
The New Year doesn't often fall in January. 35 years ago, the year of the Ox ended on the same dates as this year's festival. It's a particularly significant time of year for me, because my parents met for the first time that night - at the Chinese New Year ball in Box Hill.
This time around, Mum went out at midnight on Sunday to burn offerings for the dead as the new year began. A few hours later she boarded a plane for New York - a long flight to spend alone with your thoughts, especially when they turn to the past. I hope her trip goes well.
Traditions are strange things. After my grandparents died, I went with Dad to the Springvale cemetary to place offerings on their grave. Dad was following what he had seen his father doing, though he knew he was missing many of the traditions... his parents had never explained things fully before they passed away, and none of his other siblings had taken an interest. For him, the act of taking time for the rituals was more important - showing respect for the dead, and remembering them.
Before he passed away last year, Dad told me that he didn't expect me to continue the customs after he was gone. They had become a game of chinese whispers, changed by each generation, and he didn't want to burden me with them. I still intend to keep them alive, though, because they are a part of our family. Mum has kept the shrine, now with two generations of offerings on it. We still burn incense, and leave fruit on the altar. After we move down there next week, I will leave them a proper meal, with pork, chicken and wine. It will be a week late, but I hope they won't mind.
The New Year doesn't often fall in January. 35 years ago, the year of the Ox ended on the same dates as this year's festival. It's a particularly significant time of year for me, because my parents met for the first time that night - at the Chinese New Year ball in Box Hill.
This time around, Mum went out at midnight on Sunday to burn offerings for the dead as the new year began. A few hours later she boarded a plane for New York - a long flight to spend alone with your thoughts, especially when they turn to the past. I hope her trip goes well.
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Date: 2009-01-27 06:53 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-01-28 10:29 pm (UTC)