Tag: Hellènic Muse

What traditions have you not kept that your parents had?

I come from a lineage of tightly folded linens, quiet obedience, and doing what you must before asking what you need.

My mother lit incense before icons. I light candles before I speak the truth.

My father believed in duty, in keeping the name intact. I believe in breaking it open to find what still breathes inside.

There are traditions I could never keep—not because I reject them, but because they could not hold the size of my spirit.

I do not go to church every Sunday.

But I kneel before my heartbreak,

I fast before transformation,

I confess to the blank page.

And somehow, it still feels like worship.

I do not believe silence is always virtue.

They taught me to hold my tongue.

I taught myself to hold my ground.

I’m the first in my family to love with this kind of courage.

My mother always said I was brave—brave in ways that scared even her sometimes.

She knew I’d be the one to speak what no one else dared.

To walk away when something cost too much soul.

And my father, though quiet, carried a wisdom I never ignored.

He didn’t speak often, but when he did, his words had weight.

From him, I learned that strength doesn’t always shout—it sometimes just stays.

So while I do not keep the traditions in their form,

I carry them in their fire—

And from that fire,

I write.

This reflection responds to the Daily Prompt:

“What traditions have you not kept that your parents had?”

Some I couldn’t keep. Others—I chose to carry in fire, not form.