Every family has their strange, strange set of traditions. And those traditions mash together with the traditions of loves, friends, coworkers and – screw it all – ourselves to grow and expand. In the process of exchanging traditions, we actually sometimes lose the “why” of it all, or even the awareness that they’re unique to us while still being shared with our loved ones and ancestors.
One of the topics you guys always suggest I post about here? Mine. My family’s unique, quirky, weird traditions.
The thing is, I go to write this post and my mind is… more or less blank. Not because we don’t have any – heavens no! we have traditions coming out our noses – but because I forget that they’re ours. I forget that they’re special.
I’ve talked about this in the past, but by golly, I’ll talk about it again. Because it’s important to share these memories with each other. (That’s a no so subtle hint to hit me in the comments with YOUR traditions!)
The Jell-o Mold
When my mamaw was alive, she – a woman of a certain time in America – would always make a Jell-o mold for the holidays, despite her very limited budget. And many times, my namesake alone would eat from it – the watery remains would stay in the fridge until someone had the heart to chuck it.
She died of cancer the morning after my mom’s birthday, just three months before I was born, and she left a hole that could never never filled in my maternal family.
The making of the Jello mold is half a silly inside joke, half a sacred duty. We make the Jello, we eat the Jello, we think about who should be here to enjoy the Jello with us. My mom and aunts share memories of her with me, and I feel a little more whole.
Happy Birthday, Jesus
Do y’all ever make a birthday cake for Jesus? This is one that’s purely silly among my family and friends (I don’t think I’m overstepping to say that at very least, very few of my folks believe Jesus was literally born on December 25th), but it’s one that I just adore. Participating is incredibly simple; make or buy a birthday cake, write “Happy Birthday, Jesus” on it, light a couple candles and serve!
As one of my friends put it, “The real fun is seeing if Jesus blows out the candles.” As another put it, “What’s he got to wish for?! I’m taking that wish!”
“Santa Came!!”
I’m thanking my mom for this one. If we decided to open presents or our stockings before Christmas morning, she would usher us into a different room, hurriedly scatter presents under the tree, then exclaim, “Look everybody! Santa came!” (Same goes for the Easter bunny, natch.)
I very eagerly do this every Christmas and Easter. “Oh my gosh! Santa came! How on earth did he know you would want to open your present right now?! Wow!” Or, “Look! The Easter Bunny came!! He just hopped right through here and dropped off your basket! When did he do that?! While you were in the bathroom, maybe? Or when I sent you into the other room for no apparent reason!? WOW.”
All I Want for Last Christmas is a Wonderful Christmastime
Mariah, George and Paul, we owe you so much and hate you so much more.
I’ve seen this tradition meme’d a few times and decided to combine them. As a Christmas music dickhead (the stations that start playing Christmas music on Halloween? I am their audience), avoiding these three songs is a very real challenge.
It goes like this; the first time you hear “All I Want for Christmas Is You” by Mariah Carey, “Last Christmas” by Wham! and/or “Wonderful Christmastime” by Paul McCartney, you’re dead. You lose, good day sir. Mark it down and try again next year. Some people make it a drinking game, but I don’t even know how that would work???
Those songs because they are so overplayed. I specify by those artists because those are the overplayed versions (though the Glee versions are probably equally as deadly.) I think “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” by Band Aid could probably join the list. If you have some you especially hate – Bublé? Pentatonix? – use those. Whatever! Everything is made up!
As of this moment… I’m actually still alive. I won’t tell you which one of my songs I haven’t heard yet, but I will say that I’ve heard covers of it, but not from the actual artist!
Show ‘Em Off
Christmas cards are de-facto Christmas décor. I either set them out or tape them up on my walls, at home and in my office at work. My mom always hung them from a length of red velvet ribbon or sat them on the bar of the kitchen island. I know people who hang theirs from vintage sleds or skis, which is so classy! Others use twine, seagrass string or garland to display theirs. I love this tradition because, one, it’s free decorations. But two, it lets you enjoy the cards a little longer. And isn’t that nice?!
Wrap It Up
My mom is one of those people who insists anything CAN be wrapped using three pieces of tape. She often uses four, just because she likes to secure the paper to the thing to ensure nothing slips around. She CAN wrap anything, of any shape, but she prefers to put things in boxes for crisp corners, easy stacking and fewer wild animal attacks (we always had little dogs and cats in the house.)
So she’d wander around the house each year and find the perfect-sized box for everything – regardless of what that box was actually for. So we got socks in Zesta cracker boxes. Paint in a shoebox. A sweater in a cardboard box that was clearly used to mail dad some ammo reloading supplies.
And since things were placed into such nondescript boxes, who wrapped them really didn’t matter. Since I love wrapping so much, I regularly wrap my own presents. She just passes me a box and I wrap it. Then she glances over at the shape of it and tells me who it’s for.
Who’s It From?
I don’t know if it was boredom, my parents’ sense of humor or some mix of the two, but they started a tradition I just love. When putting the “from” for each gift (on a cut piece of wrapping paper – no fancy labels for us), they’d sometimes say it was from someone vaguely related to the gift. Art supplies might be from Bob Ross, cooking tools from Martha Stewart, a Christmas ornament from Rudolph. Some gifts were from Santa (or Mrs. Claus), some from Mom and Dad, but a lot were from our Very Good, Close, Apparently Famous, CLOSE Personal Friends (haha).
Christmas Village
Not really a unique one, but I love my Christmas Village. Granny gave me hers when she downsized. My mom used to set it up in our living room, but after an unfortunate incident between the preacher and my cat’s butt (watching that happen in slow-motion was a horror from which I will never escape), we decided perhaps it was best packed off with me.
Owning five cats, it wasn’t right for my house, either. So it came with me to my office, here it gets put out on two IKEA credenzas each year. I’ve long since given up on the lights – incandescent bulbs, blown fuses, one stuck up in the church (why do so many awful things happen with things getting stuck up someplace with this tiny church!?) – but it’s a little joy I like to share.
Biestle
Remember Biestle? If you were a child during a particular era in grade school (at least in the US), you’ll remember how Biestle products got hung on bulletin boards, doors and walls. Posable paper reindeer, elves with crepe paper bouncy limbs, pop-up fake fireplaces. I’m terribly nostalgic for Beistle fall, Halloween and Christmas. I decided a couple years ago that I very much wanted to make Biestle a permanent part of my holiday fun. I have this set hanging in my office (this set goes up at Halloween.)
Ornaments
I can absolutely eat up the beauty of a themed or designer tree, and I envy the talent it takes to make that happen. A showroom of carefully designed trees makes me positively starry-eyed.
But for my tree, I want everything on it to have some sort of personal meaning. The string angels my mom and I made by hand for my grade school class. The Shiny Brite reflectors that we’ve passed down. The McDonald’s Happy Meal Cabbage Patch angel whose wings I broke. The busted set of German wooden ornaments that we handle with such care. The stained glass ornaments my aunt made that are so heavy, they always end up as wall décor. The angels we always argue about where they came from. Grover.
I love to share those memories (and inside jokes) while decorating the tree. Whether it’s with my mom, my aunt or just about anyone within earshot, I think relating these insignificant little stories is so important to celebrating the holidays.
When people say, “it just doesn’t feel like Christmas,” I always think about these little traditions. How many holiday moments just happened for us when we were little? Because we were kids, right? Our family, our teachers, our community groups, our friends, the staff at the mall… they were all showing up to make holiday moments magical for us.
And now that we’re adults, I think a lot of people are waiting for someone else to make it happen. But we haven’t noticed that we’re the family, the teachers, the community groups, the friends and even the staff at the mall. It’s our job to make the holidays magical now!
And that starts with traditions. We have to share them. We have to show up for them, even when we’re exhausted. We have to make room for the magic to happen. And we have to tell each other why they’re special.