Traditions

I think I could spend the rest of my life futilely trying to recreate the holidays of my youth. Half of those people are gone, and the other half live too far away. The husband’s family, who does live in the area, shuns all pagan celebrations, and it is very difficult to get the same warm fuzzy feeling of a large family gathering with just myself my husband and our only child.

This year, mostly out of exhaustion, I decided to be more of a go with the flow kind of person, instead of demanding to hold to my family traditions. We had Thanksgiving at a dear friend’s house instead of our own. There was much wine drinking and children running all around and too many women in the kitchen. They called us family and hugs and laughter were everywhere. It was perfect, like it was when I was growing up.

We didn’t go to my mothers for Christmas. For many reasons, it just didn’t happen this year. Instead we spent my week off driving around, talking, playing and doing lots of nothing. I baked some pies and made a few meals, and even though I scrubbed my bathtub, there wasn’t the stress of getting up early to prep all day for Christmas Day. Instead we accepted an invitation from another lovely friend of mine. We had ham instead of turkey, and we ate off plastic plates in our jeans. We joked and laughed and watched our children play. I sat in their bathtub and offered to take it home. It was silly and easy, and I enjoyed myself very much.

I’m not quite ready to give up the idea of family traditions, but I’m definitely open to expanding my definition of it. Time to start chasing the feelings and not the actions. So, what shall we do for New Years?