I don’t remember many traditions in my family growing up. I remember turkey on Thanksgiving and opening presents on Christmas morning. Each Christmas my parents would haul the plastic tree down from the attic to set up next to the fireplace, and then bring down the plastic bin and cardboard boxes filled with ornaments. Then it was my job to start carefully selecting and placing each ornament on the tree (the prettiest ones in the front). Once I completed the task, I was back to whatever I had planned for the day. Throughout December, presents would accumulate under the tree until Christmas morning when I would be the first to wake up, and then have to wait until everyone was up before opening presents.
It continued like this until some years into high school, when my parents stopped putting up the tree. My sister was no longer living at home and it was just me and my parents, who often spent most of their free time in the city anyway. “Why bother? We’ll just have to take it down again,” my mom would say.
My sister was single and living in the city. She’s never told me much about her time in the city but I expect it was wild and I doubt she’ll ever divulge. One Christmas she invited me and my parents to her 400 square foot apartment to cook us a fancy Christmas Eve meal. For dessert, we had a fancy baked pear (or was it an apple?), and then we opened presents afterwards. I think I still have a North Face jacket from that Christmas. From there on out, my sister became the anchor point for Christmas get-togethers. Over the years as she progressed in her career, her NY apartments grew in size and we tagged along each Christmas. Then she got married, and we still tagged along. Then 1, 2, and 3 kids later, my sister and her Christmas get-togethers relocated to the suburbs where her new family started creating their own traditions. Matching pajamas, cookies, carrots, and milk for Santa and his crew.
Before my sister got married and had kids, I never thought about what it would feel like for holiday routines to change. At some point, we as kids become adults and a new generation of kids becomes the focus. There’s a lingering nostalgia for the past (how things “used to be”), but yet there are new beginnings and memories to create.
Mr. Nacho and I are our own little family now. We don’t have kids and aren’t planning on having any. Truthfully, traditions seem like they are more for kids than not. We have maybe two traditions we repeat each year. At the end of December or early January, we do a ‘big brain’ planning and retrospective session where we reflect on the past year and discuss our goals and dreams for the year ahead. We also write cards for each other for our birthdays and anniversaries. These are the key “events” year after year that stand out to me.
I would like to create more traditions. Working from home can feel repetitive, so having different things to look forward to each year might really make a difference. Traditions are a source of comfort, connection, and joy–they tie us to the present, but also to the past. With spooky season coming up, I’ve decided to start my own tradition of reading thrillers to set the mood. For Halloween, Mr. Nacho puts out a spooky inflatable ghost cat that looks like it’s floating outside the window. I’m thinking we could turn this ghost cat setup into an annual tradition (kind of like the Rockefeller tree lighting :), followed by spiced cider and something spooky on TV.
We’ll try it out this year and see how these new ideas go. My family growing up may not have had very enviable, Instagram-worthy traditions, but we were together. I’m thankful for my sister who is still the cornerstone for our side of the family, and even extended family. Where we feel welcome to visit any time, spend holidays together, and participate in the new traditions that she and her families create.
