A holey week

I woke up late this morning when I heard my son screaming from the adjacent rooftop of my in laws’ house. He started swimming already in the rectangular inflated swimming pool that my husband set up the previous day. He asked his Lolo that he fondly calls Ney which is short for Honey to bring his brunch on the rooftop instead of eating on the kitchen. Being the doting grandparents as they are, my parents let their Apo to eat his brunch, lunch and snacks on the pool. They just spoon-fed him throughout the whole time while my son is on the pool swimming, pausing only when he’s about to be spoon-fed and parents sat on their Apo’s side the whole day, watching him in amazement. We can’t get him out of the water because he always asks for his Lolo’s backup. Because they have been both very nice, my father and my son, and never imposing it’s kind of heart wrenching to stop their enjoyment we were only allowed to dry him up when one of his playmates in the pool got sick.
During the day, I suddenly remembered that it’s a Holy Thursday. I felt uncomfortable knowing that I haven’t shared to my son the spirit of the holy week and why it is celebrated. All of a sudden all the reminiscing began. I recall those days when I went with my previous family and friends to attend the 14 Stations of the Cross which is spread to all the barangays of our parish. How we never bring food or water for fasting but we never felt hungry. Then we end up in our chapel for the pabasa where all the kantoras of our barangay sang the passion of Christ. On Good Friday we were not allowed to swim on the rivers or play but instead we watch Lenten movies to remember our Lord’s sufferings. All the merriment is reserved on the Easter Sunday after the Pagkabuhay, that’s the time when we went to the beach and celebrate. I shared my discomfort with my husband’s mother and she went through her own reminiscing also. Then we have finally come through a resolution that the time is changing so we should also. I have to be in the middle. I should enjoy our vacation and at the same time I have to uphold my traditions. I persuaded her to host the 11th station of the cross and then I went with the procession. As for my son who is currently sleeping now while I am blogging, I am planning to tell him later the story about the person who let him be crucified to save the people who have been throwing stones at him. And I made plans with my husband who is a black Nazarene devotee to go to Quiapo church tomorrow which we have been doing since the year before we got married. I guess that would be halfway enough to satisfy both my beliefs and fast changing world.