All good things must come to an end. Or so the saying goes. My family is somewhat a family of tradition. I don’t know that they set out to be that way or even realize that they are. But growing up I can think of several things we did regularly at certain times of the year in a certain routine-like way. These things were usually centered around holidays.
Every Christmas Eve we went over to my grandparents for dinner. Grandma made homemade apple cider in her crockpot and we all had a cup while we watched White Christmas after we had dinner and opened our gifts. At some point over the Christmas season my sister would make hot chocolate and her, my mother, my dad and I would pile into the car and go driving around to look at Christmas lights. My mom would get mad at my dad for driving too fast and then he’d drive too slow to be smart which also made her mad. Courtney and I could almost time when it would happen. When we were very little my sister and I started the tradition of spending the night in my room on Christmas Eve. Our mom would read us The Night Before Christmas and then after she turned out the light and closed the door we would whisper about what we thought Santa would bring us until we fell asleep. On Christmas Day we woke up early, snuck downstairs to see what all we got (really just marvel at the size and number of wrapped presents), and then we'd go wake up our parents just itching to get the day started. Later that afternoon my grandparents would come over for a big Christmas meal followed by pie and a game of some kind. It’s easy to see why it has always been my favorite holiday.
My dad has some college buddies he still gets together with regularly. Most Memorial Day weekends growing up you could find us camping out at Gee Creek Campground. We’d raft the Hiwassee River on Saturday. A group would do the Ocoee on Sunday after camp church while the rest of us (being the Woods family mostly) lazed around the campground.
In September we always headed to Illinois for the Broomcorn Festival where my dad and his buddies ran the 5k, got breakfast from the Amish tent at the festival, and then the ladies’ would shop the local stores and craft booths. I started doing the run in high school or college and fit right into the breakfast plans and then went back with the ladies’ for the shopping portion of the day. We always brought BBQ and spent the evening eating it and watching sports.
Growing up at church at Bethel in Athens Alabama I remember homemade ice cream and fireworks get-together for the 4th of July. I remember the Christmas cookie bake every year and my friends and I getting “in trouble” for eating the raw dough (I use trouble lightly. Kids will be kids and our parents knew that but I think as an adult you have to at least mention the possibility of salmonella to kids eating raw dough whether you stop them from it or not).
I had a pretty blessed childhood and I am thankful for that. But I didn’t come here to tell you how beautiful and perfect it was. What I came here to tell you is that sometimes we get used to life looking and being a certain way, but one day it won’t look that way anymore. One day the people those traditions centered around will be gone. When Matt and I got married, we started trading out holidays with our families. One year we would do Thanksgiving with his family and Christmas with mine. The next year we would do the opposite. That way each family got to see us for one of the major holidays each year. The year I lost my grandparents was also the year that we did Christmas with Matt’s family so while we weren’t following “tradition” we also weren’t in a space that my past traditions heavily influenced. 2023 was a different story. It was my second Christmas without them, but my first Christmas without them in my home where their presence had previously filled so much space.
As I write this a seed of doubt is creeping in that is telling me, “You’re so spoiled. So you lost your grandparents and things were different? Get over it.” Also, as I’m writing this I’m not entirely sure of the full extent of what I want to say here...
I want to say that grief is never ending, but you probably know that. I want to say that people are dealing with so many things on any given day that we don’t see or understand half of, but I’m sure you already know that as well. I want to say that traditions, even beautiful ones, don’t make up the meaning of life, but you probably already know that too. What you might not know yet, depending on where you are in your journey with loss, is that traditions ending can certainly be sad, and difficult, and anxiety inducing, and bring on all a whole stream of other emotions, but when traditions end we also have an opportunity to have new experiences and create new traditions with new people. I love Christmas, but I was a little scared for it to come last year. I love the lights and the tree and giving and receiving presents. I love time with my family. I love eating pie and playing Pictionary. But I knew it was going to look different and I couldn't see how it was going to look different in a positive way. But it did. My sister had a whole Fiancé for starters! And Doug was there in the room excitedly shredding wrapping paper in the background until he wore himself out. This example seems a little superficial to me as I write. And I am aware that many of my readers are older than me and have been through way more life events than I have. But in the event that I have a younger reader who, like me, didn’t know loss until it slapped her/him repeatedly in the face one year, I want them to know that it is going to be ok. What they thought, expected, or were used to may be over or altered. Heading for an unknown is scary (or at the least anxiety inducing). So I guess I want to leave you with hope to calm an anxious heart.
I want you to know that you will get through it and that getting through it doesn’t mean you won’t be sad. Getting through it doesn’t mean that it will only take a week or two. It could be years. Getting through it doesn’t mean pushing through and maintaining the tradition because you feel obligated to do it the way it’s always been done. That may be the right thing for you or it may not. I think the best thing that you can do for yourself is to start trying to accept that things are going to look different and take the emotions that come with that fact in stride. Remember your tradition, but don’t fixate on it. Honor the people you shared it with, but invite new people to become a part of it or alter it to make it more meaningful to where you are in life now.
I will never claim to be a guru, expert or wise. But I will claim to be empathetic. The thing about empathy is you can’t truly express it until you’ve also been through it. So if you read this and think, “Duh!” then maybe these words weren’t meant for you. But if you’re new to loss or yet to experience it at all then I hope these words bring some comfort to you today and show you the path ahead is full of people that have been on and are on the same road who understand your hesitation at the arrival of the holidays or some other traditional event in your life and are also proof that you will make it through the darkest of those days.
-Sincerely-
Monica
(That is the end of my post but I don't want to close without letting you know there's a bonus picture of my pretty Grandma. I share a lot of pictures of my Grandpa. He was one of my very best pals and was a fun person to be around. But my Grandma was too and I don't want to neglect sharing about her every chance I get as well. Here we are partaking in one other Christmas Eve tradition. Christmas cookie decorating. Grandpa never decorated his. He immediately ate them. He got in trouble every year. Grandma was more cooperative).
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