Some cultures around the world still practice some sort of ancestor worship. In the west, however, we generally don't. We might exhibit a fading photograph in a Target frame, or position the second least expensive urn of cremated ashes at the end of the mantelpiece, but beyond these decorative tokens of remembrance, our deceased forefathers and foremothers are mostly recalled as simple sepia-tinted characters from a birthday present giving past.
Nevertheless, I am currently building a shrine to my great uncle Calvin, the first man to conquer the fearsome peak of Mount Molehill. It's a combination of Christian altar, Lincoln Memorial, and a rickety table I picked up at a yard sale. A single candle within the shrine always remains lit because it is one of those "lifetime guarantee" electronic ones that plugs into the wall socket. I don't bother with incense because great uncle Calvin suffered from sensitive nasal passages and consequently prone to sneezing fits. I think his spirit nose would be offended by fragrant smoke, which makes the whole shrine thing much less onerous for me as I won't need to waste a lot of time striking and restriking dud matches.
Speaking of wasted time, many prominent mountaineers claim that Mount Molehill is not really a proper mount, barely even qualifying as a hill according to most experts. The only reason great uncle Calvin was the first person to reach the summit, they say, is that nobody else was bothered to make the attempt before him. Mount Molehill is not very high, they assert, and there is nothing to see when you get up there anyway.
Frankly, if you ask me, it is just this sort of petty, negative talk that's responsible for the decline of American exceptionalism. After all, does anything speak to the spirit of Yankee ingenuity more than the art of making mountains out of molehills? I think not. So all hail great uncle Calvin. May your metaphysical crampons guide you up the celestial rock face until you plant the flag of the Republic in the eye of the universe, and may you get there before the spirit of Ivan-from-Smolensk's great uncle.