Our Christmas tree looks very similar to the one his family decorated growing up, strung with big colored light bulbs and silver icicles. I can't stand those bulbs, and the icicles are the messiest ornamentation I can imagine, but I love that they are my dad's tradition.
There's something about traditions that are comforting to me. They are familiar, and safe, and anchors to my soul.
As a single person, traditions can be hard to establish, frankly, and for me, they never start on purpose; they just happen. I look up one day and wonder how it is that this has happened every year for the past however-long.
I don't know, but I'm glad for it.
About four years ago, one of my longest childhood friends invited me to visit her family's cabin in Highlands, North Carolina. I had vacationed there with her and her family when we were young, perhaps two or three times, but when we went together for the first time as adults, I fell a little bit in love with that town.
When she invited me again the following year, I didn't have any real reason to deem it as such -- it just was two years in a row -- but my heart called it a tradition.
We have missed one year since, but not this year! I'm so pleased this trip is on the books again ...
... and I'm grateful for the traditions that have made themselves known in my world.
What traditions do you most appreciate? Go on, be grateful!
Family vacations starting MANY, MANY years ago. I miss them when they don't happen.
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