Traditional Memories

My gingerbread house - showing only what's best.

This essay is a first for me - not a first essay - but first to be actually written and edited on this blog page. Had things to do before sitting down to write this post. Coffee, reading, yoga and some writing. Checking bus times for getting downtown this morning. (This morning fast disappearing as I write this). There won't be much, if any Christmas shopping, but shopping for a new pair of sneakers. That is another story. What I want to visit about this morning is maintaining the Christmas atmosphere at home that I grew upon with and enjoyed as a child.

The North American culture has wisely embraced many individuals from many, many different cultures with the promise of religious freedom. Over the years, that promise has been questioned, broken, and sometimes just plain ignored. So much so that, my own personal religious freedom and that of many others were born and raised in a Christian tradition. I am no longer a practising member of any church, having developed beliefs that are consistent with the core of many religions. I have chosen not to affiliate myself with any specific church dogma.

But......and this is a big but. I still love all the Christmas music, Christmas trees and all things - except for the shopping - Christmas. Even the windows 'snowed' with wintertime scenes. I am not willing to give those things up as they connect me to a part of my past that is filled with joy, family times and really good books (The Bobbsey Twins and Nancy Drew come to mind). Fireplaces and Santa Claus. It is all labeled Christmas but the meaning of Christmas is different for everyone. In our house, I recall my dad going to pick up Grandma and Grandpa for breakfast - before church? - and the delicious breakfast of pancakes, bacon and eggs and sausage (I think) and..............

Now for my personal problem. I am and have lived on my own for many years. Christmas has been a lonely time, a time of remembering what I didn't have and many times a time of working shifts over Christmas. Actually that last has sometimes benefited me as I was with colleagues and patients all in the same boat, celebrating together in our own ways. But I digress. Tired with feeling left out and alone, my home is true to what I enjoy - and without guilt. Maybe with just a bit of passive aggressive attitude.

I put up decorations - smaller but still festive. I play Christmas music - to be more culturally correct 'seasonal' - and love it. I attend Christmas events. And there is one more thing that I was never able to do as a child that I always wanted to - I build a gingerbread house. Granted it's from a kit, but it's fun. 

I'll keep the part of this tradition that I enjoy. If I can will share in the celebrations of other religions, recognizing that the childhood memories for each of still lives.

"Tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire."

~ Gustav Mahler