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I struggle with the holidays some, I admit it.
Specifically, my approach to holiday traditions in recent years can best be summed up with a borrowed line from Elton John in November's GQ: "I don't like forced fun." He was talking about most musical theatre, but I'm referring to my tendency to fold myself into long-standing family traditions, while paying little attention to whether or not I was enjoying myself, contributing a whole lot, or just sleep-walking through the whole thing.
Living as I am at the moment in limbo, with roommates and few roots, single, with no kids, it's far too easy to do the same things I've always done, whether I feel like it or not. As much as I love my family and there are many, many days I'd rather spend with them than anyone else, sometimes the old ways do nothing but reinforce my limbo-ness, which lately is the last thing I need. And while it really isn't anyone's fault, my tendency to give into the guilt monster (Everything must stay the same! All family members and children of all ages must take their places where they are marked with black tape on the stage!) means I ignore the urge to create a new routine, while at the same time staying locked in the old one makes me cranky and difficult to be around. Issues, friends, we've got issues. Or maybe just I do.
This Thanksgiving, my sister stayed in San Diego, where she's going to graduate school. She and her boyfriend like to make big, wonderful dinners and entertain in their place, and they include people they know may be far from home on the guest list. She sent out an Evite, something I'd normally ignore out of a sense of obligation to stay in Maryland with my parents, my grandmother, and assorted other relatives for the usual meal, plus the fear of crazy holiday travel and a trip that's not really in the budget plan.
In a split-second decision, I decided to go, ignoring my fears of last-semester-in-graduate-school deadlines and nightmare airport stories. I visited my grandmother the day before I left, celebrating her December 1 birthday a few days early, eating candy and recording some of her stories.
I flew to San Diego early Thanksgiving morning, which was a lot easier than I expected - a sad reflection on the state of the economy but much easier on the stress levels. The sun was shining after a weird spell of rain, just what I needed coming from a gray, cold Maryland. We went right from the airport to Von's for some grocery shopping. The Muppet Movie was on in their place, the largest dinner in history for four people smelled awesome and the tree was lit. I passed out for a few jet-lagged hours and we ate the best Thanksgiving dinner I have ever had.
Back home, no one fell apart. My parents did not wail all day long because I wasn't there, and my aunts and uncles and cousins got through dinner just fine without me, if a little less entertained. My grandmother was moved to a nursing home while I was gone, which had me sobbing on the patio of a Temecula winery by Saturday, but the fact is, there was nothing I could do at home, and I was comforted by the time we'd spent together before I left. What was happening would have happened anyway and there were other people to deal with it. I had a great five-day break in California with my sister, and then I came home.
This break in tradition may not have been revolutionary, but it was important for me. Spending time with my only sibling where she's currently living, even though it took a little more effort and yes, a few more dollars, was absolutely the right thing to do this year, and all it really required was a decision and some will. It gave me the chance to do something fun and meaningful in a year where that has been badly needed, and reinforced that just because things don't look the same, doesn't mean they aren't perfectly appropriate.
And none of this is to say that old traditions are bad, boring or unnecessary. There are holiday routines that I would miss like crazy if they went away - repeated group viewings of Christmas Vacation, for instance, or sitting on the couch after everyone's gone to bed, leaving
