Today was the first time in many, many years that I went to church on Good Friday. It brought back a flood of old memories. As I entered church I was thinking about the many times my brother and I would come during Good Friday with my mom to church. She would kneel and pray while my brother and I would alternate between sitting and kneeling quietly waiting until my mom was done. It was a minimum of an hour. We were well behaved, always silent. I don’t remember a great deal of praying, mostly just thinking about kid stuff, wondering how long I had been sitting and thinking how much longer.
Today was different there was prayer, singing, scripture and a homily. It was peaceful and solemn and at times it moved me to tears.
A beautiful way to start the day and a new beginning for an old tradition.