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| A LOT has changed since this was taken |
JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: There’s much talk, this time of year, about traditions. And why not? The traditions we hold to year after year are a vital part of making the holidays what they are. Unlike other events, we don’t crave novelty or uniqueness; we want the same decorations, the same songs, the same people. Even if you don’t particularly like Aunt Millie’s green bean casserole, you still make it. Even though your mother-in-law drives you bonkers, you still drive two hours to spend the day at her house.
But, as author coach Becca Syme likes to say, what if you… didn’t?
As timeless as they seem, our holiday observances have to change over the years. We get married and have to accommodate our spouse’s dumb traditions along with our own beautiful and meaningful ones. We move out of state, and for some reason, Mom isn’t as interested in cleaning and cooking for us and our sisters and our cousins and our aunts (our sisters and our cousins, who number in the dozens!) The ice dancing show we always took the kids to now costs - are you kidding me? A hundred bucks per ticket?
Then there are the traditions you kick to the curb because you realize the work isn’t worth the payoff. I stopped making Christmas cookies the year I found myself sobbing in the kitchen at 2am, taking batch after 
batch of confections out of the oven. My kids and my husband would much rather have those white-chocolate-covered Oreos they put out this time of year; why was I killing myself over pfeffernusse?
Or wrapping presents with fancy paper and bows and ribbons. Yes, it looks pretty, but you know who doesn’t care? Everyone else in the house except you. That paper is like Gypsy Rose Lee’s costumes: it’s 
just an impediment to the good stuff underneath. I, myself, switched to bags and tissue paper; now not only super easy - pop the present in, cover it with tissue, tie the handles with a bit of ribbon if you don’t trust the recipient not to peek - but I also get to bask in the glow of righteous eco-saving, since they get reused over and over and over again.
The latest tradition that I suspect is about to disappear? Our Christmas Day dinners for twenty to forty. Obviously, we put this on hold during the pandemic, but in the years since 2020, there have been changes besides masking and hand sanitizer. Many of the now-adult kids of the families who would come have moved out of state, and our former guests are making their own decisions on where to spend the holidays. Some friends are less than enthused about being indoors in winter crowded together with people who, lets face it, could be carrying God-knows what kinds of germs.
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| One of THREE tables for the big parties! |
Most importantly, I've realized the sheer amount of work I need to do when I don’t have a husband and willing teens/college kids to pitch in. Thanksgiving dinner for seven felt like a LOT. It took me two days to clean up, and we didn’t even have any wine glasses to wash. (Sober celebration for the win!) Youngest really wants to resume the huge get-togethers, but I couldn’t help but notice that as I carried in plates and platters from the dining room and sorted napkins to be laundered, she sat in front of the fire and scrolled on her phone.
This year, we’re only doing six for Christmas, and I feel fine with that. I’m thinking I can wait until Youngest has her own large house with lots of space, and let her resume the enormous dinner party tradition. I’ll be happy to show up with a dish and a smile, and leave all the rest of the toil and trouble to her. I might even bring Aunt Millie’s green bean casserole.
How about you, dear readers?
