My family has celebrated Christmas at my grandparents’ house for longer than I’ve been alive. During my childhood, it was always in the afternoon on Christmas Day. All of my aunts, uncles, and cousins on my father’s side would bring gifts and a dish-to-pass for the family meal.
We would eat together as a family, albeit scattered throughout the house because there wasn’t a table large enough for all of us. After dinner we’d open gifts one by one, always starting with the youngest in attendance, working our way up to the oldest, and repeating the process until everything was opened.
We always had a large barrel-sized cardboard cylinder in the corner of the living room that we’d use to discard the wrapping paper. When it started getting too full, one of the younger kids would have an opportunity to jump in and stomp on the paper until it was sufficiently compressed to make room for more.
As time has gone on and each individual family has grown, the day we celebrate has shifted. Sometimes it’s before Christmas and sometimes it’s after, but the tradition has always remained.
Not everyone in the family attends now. Some are too busy with work to travel or are dealing with an illness that causes them to skip a year. But there’s always the following year to have a new opportunity to join in the festivities.
I’m not sure if there are many that truly grasp how important traditions like this are. It’s easy to get caught up in the little annoyances associated with the event — the stress of coming up with a dish to bring, your child being the one that’s a bit more rambunctious than the others, the inefficient process used when handing out gifts, and so on.
But none of that really matters in the long run. When I think back at my experience of going to Christmas at grandma’s house, I think back to when I was seven or eight and received a toy basketball hoop. I think about joking around with my uncle Mark. I think about the time I spent with my cousins tinkering around with whatever toy one of us opened. I think about the people, I think about the laughs, and I think about the fun. That’s what matters.
I believe that there is value in these types of family traditions. Because each individual event contributes to the family’s story and helps keep us together. Traditions become a part of who we are.
Now that I’m one of the adults, with two kids of my own, it’s my duty to keep the traditions going as long as I can. And to try and recreate the ones that have been lost — both to honor those that came before us and to ensure my children and future grandchildren get to enjoy them, too.
