Family Traditions
Memories That Last a Lifetime…
I’m struggling with family traditions these days. Those little things that were so important to me growing up, that once gave me such great joy just a few years ago are becoming increasingly more difficult to motivate myself to do. As a child I can remember the excitement that each new season brought to me as I anticipated the corresponding event. In the spring we colored Easter eggs, we took a happy meal to park on the first warm (enough) day of the year and I can still remember how it felt to tip my head back towards the sun as I swung back & forth to soak up every once of warmth after such a long winter. In the summer we camped out in the backyard, and couldn’t wait to watch fireworks. The fall brought pumpkin carving, hayrides and haunted houses. Everyone knows what winter brings. Holidays and family gatherings galore. We decorated Christmas cookies, our house smelled of fresh cut pine & tinsel was draped over every surface imaginable. Those family traditions instilled in me a confidence that I carry with me to this day. I’m doing a great disservice to my children by not giving them that same outlet to “check out” and forget for a few hours about the fast paced, non-stop world that we currently live in.
My favorite tradition was started as a joke one snowy Christmas Eve. My aunt Jeanie, the oldest of my mom’s siblings, dared my Aunt Becky, the baby, to leave our annual Christmas party, go to the neighbor’s house and sing a Christmas carol. My Aunt Becky had long since learned that you never back down from a dare from an older sibling, so she accepted. The whole family stood in the front yard and watched as my aunt brazenly rang the neighbor’s door bell and without missing a beat, when they answered, began belting out “Joy To the World”. We all thought the door would be slammed in her face. It was cold, snowy, and everyone has better things to do on Christmas Eve than stand in their doorway listening to some
I’m struggling with family traditions these days. Those little things that were so important to me growing up, that once gave me such great joy just a few years ago are becoming increasingly more difficult to motivate myself to do. As a child I can remember the excitement that each new season brought to me as I anticipated the corresponding event. In the spring we colored Easter eggs, we took a happy meal to park on the first warm (enough) day of the year and I can still remember how it felt to tip my head back towards the sun as I swung back & forth to soak up every once of warmth after such a long winter. In the summer we camped out in the backyard, and couldn’t wait to watch fireworks. The fall brought pumpkin carving, hayrides and haunted houses. Everyone knows what winter brings. Holidays and family gatherings galore. We decorated Christmas cookies, our house smelled of fresh cut pine & tinsel was draped over every surface imaginable. Those family traditions instilled in me a confidence that I carry with me to this day. I’m doing a great disservice to my children by not giving them that same outlet to “check out” and forget for a few hours about the fast paced, non-stop world that we currently live in.
My favorite tradition was started as a joke one snowy Christmas Eve. My aunt Jeanie, the oldest of my mom’s siblings, dared my Aunt Becky, the baby, to leave our annual Christmas party, go to the neighbor’s house and sing a Christmas carol. My Aunt Becky had long since learned that you never back down from a dare from an older sibling, so she accepted. The whole family stood in the front yard and watched as my aunt brazenly rang the neighbor’s door bell and without missing a beat, when they answered, began belting out “Joy To the World”. We all thought the door would be slammed in her face. It was cold, snowy, and everyone has better things to do on Christmas Eve than stand in their doorway listening to some