Confession: I have slight envy for those with long-standing family traditions. I didn't always feel that way. Actually, for a long time I kinda liked the idea of doing things "differently."
Maybe those feelings started changing already after my son was born or as I got older, but it's been this year that I've come to the realization that traditions are far more important than I gave them credit for. 2020, for many I suspect, has been the year of uncovering truths. Whether that's the realization that the packed schedules we lived with before aren't something we want to return to, or obligations we've made that now feel more like anchors than stepping stones, or relationships that are draining rather than nurturing. I've made a few changes during the last few months. Not all were easy, but all were necessary. But with the holidays here, I'm finding it harder this year to find joy. Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful that my family is healthy and that we're safe. But there is one thing that I never really looked at as a tradition that I won't have this year -- spending the holiday with my parents. This will be the first time we won't physically be together. Not traveling this year is the right thing to do. We were lucky to have had an opportunity to safely see them at the beginning of November and both of those are keeping me going. But without that one constant, I'm realizing how much I miss the idea of having traditions to ground me. So with that, I'm going to make a promise to myself to start a new one. It's never too late to start, is it?
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