No, but really, it kind of was. My family is all supposed to be buried in a national cemetery that is absolutely dazzling, which is a weird thing to say about a cemetery, but it is fairly accurate. We walked around, looking at tombstones, murals and incredible architecture, all set to the backdrop of lush green mountains. Walking around putting flowers in my grandparents’ graves made for a good morning. Then we went to a wedding. We came to the conclusion that though seemingly paradoxical, they were kind of the same thing.
They’re both related to deaths. One most obviously death of close ones, the other the death of your free life. :)This wedding was particularly peculiar to the invitees because there was no open reception after. So instead, we spent the evening ordering pizza and singing all traditional songs we could think of. Sarah and I were serenaded to an amazing set of romantic ballads (we were the only girls left by the end of the night :) ).
Oh, and the priests we ate with from the first night at some point showed up as well and joined it.
As Sarah said, “You can pretty much include the priests in any of the daily activities.”
I love my family. :)
1 comment:
You're lucky. My family is all buried on the side of a road overflowing with a bunch of mismatching cement graves stacked on top of each other. Even if you build your grave early to save your spot, you have to make sure you seal the hole off or someone will steal your spot and stick a random casket in there.
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