We are our tradition!

Write about a few of your favorite family traditions.

Thanks to Dad and Mom.

(It’s not about the tradition but the Aim of the tradition!)

Traditions are defined as a series of recurrent rituals, behaviours, and activities that have been practiced and passed down through generations. Indeed, family customs can vary by town, country, and continent. It can be both ornate and simple, reflecting family ideas and values. For many people, it includes physical or actual activities like family dinners, camping, family vacations, and extended family games, to name a few. Which is determined by the point of origin. Whatever customs your family has, they are honoured.

However, the idea of writing about this topic cast a heavy shade over my spirit in terms of my family’s priceless memories. It reminded me of my late parents and their insistence on our upholding family traditions.Their efforts to ensure that we all adhere to it continue to this day, even after they are gone. We, like every other family, have an annual vacation ritual; regardless of where we live, we return home every Christmas to spend quality time with our parents. Have a discussion together. We eat together, visit our fields, and go to church together. play and dance together . Both single and married. Even married people visit along with their wives and children.

But the most fascinating part of my family’s traditions isn’t what it might seem. Rather than the yearly vocations, dinner dates, farm visits, church, and dance, my parents’ goal is for us all to follow the tradition, which speaks to the love, unity, and affection that exist within the family. The conversations and outward manifestations of everyone utilising our time together to strengthen the family’s bond against those who would have us do otherwise.

Our parents instilled in us the importance of caring, helping, bonding, and looking out for one another. And their presence kept it in check until death arrived. I feel that any current family custom is primarily dependent on the prospective parents. Their intentions, as well as their vision and presence. I was unable to attend my late mother’s burial last Christmas, and I despised myself for it; as a result, I missed the annual custom of having all of my siblings together for the final time.

As much as it terrifies me that with our parents’ deaths, it may be difficult to maintain the physical annual tradition and rituals that accompany them, but the bond, love, devotion, and care they instilled in us, their children, will always be practiced and retained. However, with each of us having our own immediate families, our parents fulfilled their purposes and course of our tradition because, in turn, we are ensuring that our children have the same bond of love, affection, unity, and care for one another that our parents instilled in us through our family tradition. Permits me to say: When tradition fulfilled its course, it becomes human. We are our tradition.

How age affects fun time

List five things you do for fun.

Pleasant moment that I aspire to have for the remainder of my life.”

Having a good time involves a variety of activities. To be honest, I can’t recall the last time I set aside time for fun. The situations that I find fulfilling are different and frequently hard for others to comprehend. Having fun can sometimes help me decompress from stressful situations. I adore reading and writing because they are enjoyable activities that make me feel happy. The most intriguing aspect about writing, though, is that I can write well under pressure, while working, on my breaks, in noisy environments, and in other seemingly challenging situations. I utilise it to separate my soul from situations that deflect me of positive energies.

However, reading in public required a higher level of concentration. I prefer to read in a peaceful and quiet place since it energises my soul. Sometimes with a tuned down country music on the background.I began writing at a young age in the hopes of one day shaping people’s lives via my work and being known for it. It makes me glad today that people all over the world have seen and liked my blog post. Thank you, WordPress and social media networks, for making my goal come reality. Speaking of fun, I enjoy dancing and listening to various types of music.

I rarely have this kind of fun time, and when I do, I enjoy myself completely because I put all of my troubles aside and focus on the here and now. Yes, dancing and listening to music help me feel better. Going out every weekend and playing football were previously part of my fun times, but as I’ve grown older and seen a significant change in my personality, I’ve realised that life is what happens when we are occupied with other things.

Aside from writing and reading, spending time with my family is currently the most pleasurable and entertaining period of my life. One of the blessings I hope to enjoy every day of my life is spending weekends with my wife and children, playing and watching films together, eating, and conversing. Yes, these are my five favourite interesting facts. How about you?

Sacrifices you may never understand as a child

Please hurry up. Have you finished your breakfast, chimara? We’re already running late. Where is your sister now? Eating She responded while dining. OK please button up your jumper. I said again, my heart racing and my eyelids heavy with sleep; it hadn’t been long since they returned from a sleepover with their mother, who had hurriedly readied them for school before departing to her morning shift despite working all night.

After returning from the night shift, I closed my eyes for just an hour before falling asleep. Rolling from side to side of my bed, filled with resentment, anxiety, and great exhaustion, praying that a miracle could occur and someone would transport my kids to school every morning, not just today. How come I’m being tortured to such agony? My mind wandered with closed eyes and an awakened consciousness.Then a voice said, “Stop pitying yourself.” Nobody said it’d be easy. Get up; at the very least, you are doing it for your children. I had newfound vigour in my soul, yet I was still angry at myself.

Poor kids, how I wish they knew what was going through my mind; they would forgive all of my tantrums directed at them. Chizy, where are you? Come here, please. She promptly approached me, seeking for assistance with her shoes, which she had on incorrectly. Bring your leg here. I stated as I switched her trainers and clothed her appropriately for school. Walking to the dining room, which adjoins the entry and exit doors to our house, I notice a dish with leftover cereals on the table. Whose plate is that? I exclaimed. Oh, mine, mine, sorry, they said, aware that after eating, their plates should be taken to the kitchen. “Please let’s go; we’re late.

Chimara, where are your bags and water bottles? She said, “Here, here,” and I replenished them with water before we walked out the door. My formerly cloudy head has progressively cleared of grief and weakness. A few minutes into our walk to school, as we doubled our pace to keep up with the clock, I heard a three-year-old whispering hello and waving at us, while her mother looked on in delight. I was confused at first, but a closer look caught me off guard when I recognised her smile and realised she was Chizy’s classmate and friend.

Boo-boo, isn’t that your friend? And, yes, she grinned in response before calling her out and asking that she accompany us to school. But the kid’s mother and I quickly exchanged pleasantries. Come on, gals, we need to get caught up on time. We fled quickly. We’re almost at the school gate, and it’s time. I directed Chimara and Chizy to sprint towards the school entrance, preventing it from closing, and I followed them.

As a child I never truly understood the sacrifices of my parents until now; I hissed

We finally made it. Chimara was the first to enter her class, followed by Chizy, and I returned home with a different perspective and enthusiasm than woke up. The miracle I longed for occurred indirectly, relieving me of wrath, anguish, and anxiety burnt out of sacrifices made for the love of a child by the parents, especially their father.