Family Traditions

What behaviors did you inherit?

This year for Yule, my husband and I went "home" to Denver, mostly because my youngest son wasn't able to take time off and come here. We stayed at my father-in-law's, and without big family dinners or gatherings, the time was very stress free. We spent what time we could with my son, and the rest of the time with friends, playing games and hanging out. It was one of the nicest and most relaxing Yules I have had in a while.

A big part of the trip was to see the kid's first apartment and to help furnish it. After visiting his "bachelor" pad, we took him shopping and got things he needed but couldn't justify buying, things like a coffee maker and more than 4 plates (he has 2 roommates). I didn't get to do this for my older kids, and I loved every bit of it.

The day before our flight home, I collected all our leftover food in a box, ready to send home with Mark. As I filled the box, I felt a yearning to put more and more in. No matter how full it was, I wanted to add more. Consciously, I recognized that he has food, partially due to me buying him groceries AND that I couldn’t justify emptying my father-in-law’s cabinets. Logic did win out, but it was a tough battle.

That night after a wonderful dinner out, I added our leftover containers to the box, and we took my son home. Hugs and goodbyes done, I watched my son walk to his door with the overflowing box and again I felt that yearning to give him more. It felt out of place for the context, and I wondered where it came from.

Growing up and watching my brother and other young adults leave family gatherings, I remember how their arms were always weighed down with boxes or bags, filled to bursting with food. This happened at any leaving. At big gatherings, aunts, uncles, and grandparents contributed; everyone worked together.

My thoughts went back to the last (very uncomfortable) visit I had with my stepparents, when I was in my late forties, and hardly a "young adult". As I readied to leave, my stepfather opened up the chest freezer and he and my stepmother pulled several things out, put them in a couple boxes, and put them in my car. At the time it felt both right and very weird. Looking back, I can see it as that same unspoken urge to do what one can to help the next generation. Given my age at the time, and our strained relationship, it is clear that it is an action taken regardless of feelings. It is just what is done.

Are there similar traditions in your family? I'd love to hear about other ways your family roots might be influencing you. Leave your stories in the comments!