Family Traditions: From Sacred Statues to the Skala Cup

Every family has their traditions. Some are wholesome, some are a little unhinged, and some… well, let’s just say they probably wouldn’t make it into a Hallmark movie.

In my family, traditions range from the sweet and sentimental to the slightly questionable. We have a Christmas ornament that’s over 100 years old and still makes its way onto the tree every year. We sing “Happy Birthday” in a way that can only be described as chaotic opera—think Broadway meets a car crash. We drink from the Skala Cup, a chalice my great-grandmother “acquired” from someone’s grave decades ago. At family parties, we fill it with beer or liquor, pass it around, and toast to… well, whatever feels right in the moment. And if you’re new to the family? You must sing karaoke before the night is over. No exceptions.

But my favorite tradition—the crown jewel of our family calendar—is the Annual Mary’s Cup.

The story goes like this: years ago, my parents, aunts, and uncles explored an abandoned Catholic orphanage (as one does) and “rescued” a statue of Mother Mary. Instead of simply displaying her respectfully, they decided she should be earned. Thus, the Mary’s Cup Cornhole Tournament was born. Every summer, we compete for the honor of taking Mary home, where the winning partners split custody for the year.

This past weekend marked our 6th Annual Mary’s Cup, and as always, it was a perfect blend of competitive spirit and complete nonsense. I pre-made the tournament bracket and randomly selected teams. Once everyone arrived, we gathered together, sang the national anthem (because… of course), and got down to business.

When the final bags were tossed and the champions crowned, we celebrated like true professionals: a feast of food, countless beers, and an alarming number of whiskey shots. Eric made his karaoke debut—naturally crushing it—before we moved into our lineup of drinking games: beer pong, flip cup, beer ball, baseball, and stack cup.

It was a day of laughter, questionable decisions, and the kind of joy that only comes from being surrounded by people who have known you your entire life. These traditions—odd, loud, and wildly imperfect—are what keep us connected. They’re my favorite reminder that family is more than just blood. It’s inside jokes, shared history, and a statue of Mary that smells faintly like beer.

Here’s to another year with Mary—and to never letting these traditions fade.

-D