Traditional Traditions

It is interesting how traditions get born within families. They are not really something that can be forced. It is more that as a group you do something and as time passes on, it just becomes part of what you do. Our family made it a habit to sit down for dinner every night with some background music on. Nothing seemed quite complete unless all five of us were around the table, eating and rehashing the day while listening to some music playing. It has gotten to the point that I don’t think my son can eat a meal without humming. I am sure this is something his new wife is trying to embrace in a way that only new wives can.

One of the more recent traditions that my family has adopted was really only over the last few years, but has since become a required venture every Christmas Eve. After our sumptuous dinner of Prime Rib and Yorkshire Pudding (okay, two traditions on Christmas Eve), we all bundle up and drive down to City Park and take a walk through the iridescent, twinkling lights that decorate all the trees. It is quite magical, especially when the snow is falling. Seeing an undisturbed expanse of freshly fallen snow on the ground invariably causes one of the girls to flop on her back and make snow angels. There is nothing that makes hot chocolate more comforting than having a steaming mug full after a long walk on a cold, crisp December night.
Traditions do not always just occur during winter holidays. One of my earliest recollections of a family tradition was when we drove out to our cottage at Grippen Lake in the late 1950’s , just outside Lyndhurst about 30 km from Kingston. We would all pile into the family car and begin our trek to the cottage to start the summer season at the cottage. Just when we turned off Highway #15 onto Lyndhurst Road, there was a slight rise in the road and off to the right, if you strained your head high enough, you could see the shimmering reflections of the lake in the distance. The anticipation in the car was palpable, as the car edged forward, all eyes, I mean ALL eyes were skewed off the road trying to be the first one to see the lake. There was always a critical moment, just as the car reached the crest of the road that the lake became visible and then the anticipated explosion of someone yelling at the top of their lungs, “First one to see Grippen Lake”! I don’t know if my brothers and sisters still carry that echo in their heads as they drive out there, but I know I do. Even when driving alone I seem to race myself into being the first to see the lake. It shouldn’t come as any surprise that this was passed on to my kids. Although after the passage of 50 years of tree growth, it is getting harder and harder to make the lake out.

Sometimes though, such a tradition can cause some consternation. My brother once told me of a time back in the late ‘60’s he and his friends were driving to the Lake in his old Vauxhall with guys crammed in the front and guys crammed in the back. In this case, all of the passengers in the car knew of this tradition, but one. My brother in his youthful spirit, braked heavily just before the rise of the hill, flung open the door and started to sprint down the road to be the first to see the lake. He was quickly followed by the other young men who understood what he was doing and were equally eager to be the first. Soon all of them had abandoned the car and were running madly up the road, except for that one. In what can only be described as a moment of absolute fear and panic, this last passenger quickly surmised that the car was about to explode, hence the panicked run from the car by his friends. He bolted from the backseat and leapt into the water filled ditch beside the road to escape what was surely a fiery explosion. His act has lived on in infamy.

Holidays, in all faiths, have certain traditions that do endure from generation to generation, but these are more societal traditions, rather than familial traditions. Traditions seem to bind people together, rather like a mental holding of hands, the repetition and knowledge that doing something with the rest of your family or friends is one of those satisfying moments in your life. You can feel the warm hand of comfort surround you and support you. You just know, even if you are alone and living or working somewhere far away from your loved ones, that they are doing the same thing, thinking the same thoughts as you at the same time. Whether this is finding comfort in chewing food in rhythm with Paul McCartney, straining your eyeballs for some far off body of water or flopping onto your back in an untouched blanket of snow. Upholding traditions can and do bring people together to help remember what is most true in the world today. With all the pressures and tension that our global community throws at us each and every day, it is nice to fall back on those simple traditions that helped shape who we are.