I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the comfort of traditions.
We’re supposed to want change all the time. Continuous improvement, self-improvement, bigger, stronger, faster. Change is the only constant, they say. But sometimes the comfort of tradition is what we crave.
Yesterday, I felt drawn to make crepes on Shrove Tuesday the way my Mum used to make when I was little. I haven’t made them in a long time, but it felt right this year to go back to that tradition. I’m out of practise though and they were not quite as thin as they should be. Maybe next year she’ll be able to remind me how to get them paper-thin again.
When my brother and I were small, Mum would make “Canadian” pancakes for us. No need for maple syrup; we thought eating them with grated cheddar cheese and tomatoes was normal. My own kids will probably make pancakes with applesauce and cinnamon for their children, who will think that is normal. Certain holidays demand certain meals. First days of school demand photographs. Thanksgiving isn’t Thanksgiving without pumpkin pie. Christmas isn’t Christmas without Brussel sprouts (and I don’t even like Brussel sprouts!).
Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof talks about traditions keeping us in balance. Maybe that’s why the world feels out of whack these days. Through this pandemic, we’ve lost some of the traditions that bring us comfort. Birthdays with friends, annual beach vacations, camping trips, rituals in our places of worship, weddings, funerals are just some of what we’re longing for. I know I’m not alone in wishing we will be able to get back to them soon.
When I did my exchange year in Turkey I learned many new traditions. Some were a little more difficult to understand than others. Circumcision parties for little boys about seven years old, anyone?! But one of my favourites was that when you head out on a journey, a pitcher – or even a glass – of water is thrown after (not at!) you. It’s the expression of a wish that your journey is smooth as the water. When I returned with my daughter a few years ago, we stayed with a dear friend and she repeated this old tradition when we left to return to Canada. My daughter thought it was very odd, but it brought a smile to my face and a tear to my eye. Traditions really are comforting.
When I started my family, I started my own traditions. One that brings me pleasure is the special Christmas ornament I bought for all of them every year. When they came off the tree, they went straight into their own special box. With two off on their own now and putting up their own trees, it was a wonderful thing to be able to give them their box full of ornaments to start their first tree with. I’ll keep doing it I think – a single beautiful ornament each year, to mark the passing of time.
What special traditions do you hold onto? Leave a comment below and tell me about them.
Your Christmas ornament tradition with the children is a wonderful idea!
Hang tight onto your traditions Kath. With my family gone, I have only the memories to cherish. One I hold dear is the poetic description of gifts received from family. Thanks for sharing yours.