Defining Traditions and What They Mean to Me
Last weekend, as Sanjeev and I were preparing our 4th of July meal, I thought I’d feel sad. Sad that we weren’t at my parents’ house in Pennsylvania, hanging out around the pool as my dad grilled hotdogs and hamburgers.
On Friday, as Sanjeev was watching me make our apple pie, a favorite of mine, I was getting frustrated. I thought I messed up the crust. He kept telling me I didn’t, to stop worrying so much. Like every other crazy meal back home with my family, his reassurances reminded me of how they would reassure me… and each other, as things got crazy in the kitchen, as we rushed to prepare meals. Of course, in the end, everything would turn out fine. It turned out fine here too; that apple pie was delicious.
On Saturday, we were preparing the seafood boil and sharing a beer, as the scent of shrimp, sausage and Old Bay filled our apartment. It reminded me of the summer cookouts we had when I was still living with my parents and sister. Of course, now, we lived across the country from each other and I missed it. But as Sanjeev and I drank and laughed, I was just happy to be sharing this with him, happy that, despite losing one experience with my family, I could have another.
At the end, seeing the meal come together, spread out family cookout-style in front of us, it just felt comfortable and familiar. It felt like the beginnings of a new tradition.
As I continue the journey of figuring out my career, its made me reflect on the things that have helped shape the path that got me to where I’m at. Part of that lies in the traditions in my life, the old and the emerging ones. It may seem obvious, but as my life and living experience change, those traditions will inevitably change with it. I say it seems obvious but honestly, with so much of life in flux, it's hard to look at the stability of those traditions, the comfort they brought, and imagine losing that. And yet, at the same time, it’s hard to think about traditions the same way as I used to.
It’s not that they’re any less important to me, but I guess how I value them has changed. It’s a different kind of importance. Growing up, my family worked hard to maintain the traditions in our lives. To this day, my mom reads the same Christmas stories to us, every Christmas Eve before we go to bed. And yes, sure Santa is isn’t real, but we still put those cookies out, we still track him across the world. And come Christmas morning, the gifts magically end up underneath the Christmas tree, thanks to mom and dad, I MEAN Santa. Christmas is one of those events when the traditions mattered. It was about recreating these same feelings, especially when I was off at college – it was one of the rare occasions I was guaranteed to feel right at home.
I never thought I’d be spending Thanksgiving or Christmas any other way – starting the day at my parents’ house, and then having the main meal and finishing off the celebration at my grandparents’ house. And then I did.
I met Sanjeev’s family for the first time in Singapore in December 2017. We had a limited window; it was winter break at college. I was excited (and nervous) but it also meant I wouldn’t be spending Christmas with my family. And that made me… well, pretty bummed. Sanjeev’s family never celebrated Christmas, it just wasn’t something they did. But, I woke up on Christmas morning in Singapore, in Sanjeev’s family’s house, and walked down to a house full of Christmas decorations, familiar holiday food, and even a little tree with presents underneath. I was in an unfamiliar place, with people I had just met, across the world from the place I had known Christmas for my entire life, and yet, it felt like home.
To this day, that has been one of the most memorable Christmases of my life. It wouldn’t become a tradition, but those feelings are a reminder to me, that even if a tradition isn’t celebrated the same was it used to, it doesn’t mean the feelings you associate with that tradition have to go away. In fact, it’s those feelings that make the tradition. Its why, despite not having the Christmas stories or the milk and cookies out, Christmas still felt like Christmas. Its why, despite not having the grill and Bella running around the yard, the 4th of July still felt like the 4th of July.
And I don’t search for plastic, candy, and coin filled eggs around my childhood home anymore. Sentimental me probably used to think I’d be doing that forever, even as an adult. But, for the last few years, my family has been sending me a care package around Easter with my own basket to open, chocolate bunny and all. Traditions evolve and adapt and now, my family sends the traditions to me via USPS. And it works: It makes me feel like a little part of them is right here with me all the way across the country in my new home.
Someday, Sanjeev and I will have our own family with our own traditions. Our kids will grow up living with those traditions… and then they might leave. Things change, people change. I know I have. But I know now, those traditions change with us. It’s the feeling of comfort that matters. And that will never change.