Time. Oxford’s definition of time is: 1 “indefinite continued progress of existence, events, etc., in past, present and future, regarded as a whole”.
Tradition. Oxford’s definition of tradition is: 1 “A custom, opinion or belief, handed down to posterity.”
Time and tradition. Both fill portions of our lives in countless ways. Day after day, moment to moment, time is of the essence. Traditions are carved out of time. Handed down from generation to generation, traditions are precious memories of moments in time. Memories past and memories to come. Saturated with meaning, punctuated with joy and delight. New traditions are being born every day…through moments in time.
As the quote above, written in my father’s handwriting, states…”We do not remember days; we remember moments.” (Annon.)
Speaking from my own memories, I can agree that this quote holds true. An entire day, filled with various events and conversations, bits and pieces, like those of a jigsaw puzzle; rearrange and scatter randomly in our memory banks. We cannot possibly store them all. The most precious, meaningful moments, the ones our minds and hearts choose to keep, are placed in our archive of safekeeping.
I know, beyond any doubt; time was precious to my father. After he died, my mother, sister and I discovered countless envelopes filled with quotes my father had saved; regarding time. Some of the quotes were in his handwriting, many he had copied from books or newspapers, others he clipped from various sources. Time. He clearly took the time to clip and save these vignettes of time.
I kept a few of the clipped or copied quotes. The ones that spoke to me. The ones my father had copied in his handwriting, are the ones I have put into collages and gifted to my mother and my sister. I have three hanging in my house as well. Gracing the walls with memories and meaning, a small glimpse into the soul of a man who held time and traditions tight in his heart.
Time spent with family, whether keeping traditions or creating new ones, is priceless. Precious moments in time. If you are fortunate, as I am, to come from a family whose tree is anchored by deep roots, cultivated with tradition; you are blessed indeed.
If that is not the case, its never too late…there is, if you choose to make it; time. Openings in the vast expanse of time, to make those moments remembered; in the days and years ahead of you. Holidays are a wonderful place to begin traditions. Designated chunks of time, set aside each calendar year, that give the gift of memory making moments. The time for traditions to begin and thrive, must be set aside amid the chaotic atmosphere of the holidays. Over the years, traditions become automatic. A given. Non negotiable, revered, honored time.
This year, on our traditional Christmas tree cutting day, our oldest son Matthew, his wife Aleah, and Bill and I, talked about how fast ten years have flown from the day in 2007, they initiated this delightful tradition with us. Matthew and Aleah approached us after Thanksgiving that year, 2007, the year they were married; and asked if we would like to go with them to a local tree farm near them in CT, to get our Christmas trees. Bill and I were thrilled with the idea and a tradition was born that day. Ten years of going together to wander the tree farm in search of our “perfect” Christmas trees. The first five years it was four of us searching for and cutting our trees. The past five years have included their son, our grandson, Evan.
Born mid November of 2012, he was an infant, swaddled in a pouch, on his first trip through the fields of Christmas trees. It was a bitter cold, snow dusted day. This year he hopped and skipped ahead of us on the muddy, matted, grass road through the rows of fir trees. He was singing songs about Santa and would stop occasionally to look at the trees, then turn to us and announce that he wanted a “dinosaur tree” this year. “A BIG dinosaur tree.” Sunny and warm, we lingered, taking our time deciding on just the right tree. Evan got his BIG dinosaur tree!!!
In his green dinosaur boots and his bright blue jacket, he zigzagged through the rows of fir trees and sang, and somewhere, in his 5 year old memory archive, I have to believe; are stored moments of that recent day. Moments of that ten year old tradition are indelibly etched in my memory archive. For sure.
He, and I, will not remember the entire day so much as we will remember moments from it. As years go by, his mind will put more memories into safekeeping. He is young still, and tho we all have memories of time from our early youth, all is not remembered.
I can not put into words how much this tradition means to me. I feel much the same about time and traditions as my father did. Both my parents were born into families steeped in family and tradition. The ones they have passed on and the new ones Bill and I have created with our children, and now our grandchildren; are wrapped in and around my heart and mind with ribbons bright, held fast with the warmth and love of family.
Our growing, blended family does it’s best to honor past traditions from each branch of every tree in our expanding forest of extended family. And, we do a great job…sharing, compromising, blending and enjoying the moments. Holidays are times we try to fit as many moments as we can into a very limited amount of time. The holiDAY itself is a much sought after day. So much to do, so little time. Twenty four hours in a day. One thousand, four hundred forty moments, in a day.
We (Bill and I) have decided it is more important for all of us to be together for a relaxing, enjoyable stretch of time, on a day or evening during the expanse of the season; than to try to force it all into a very limited amount of the holiDAY . That being said, we have come to the conclusion that it is easier for us all to get together a day or so before, or just after, the big day. We plan it so no one has to rush off, soon after arriving, to be somewhere else, then somewhere else, then somewhere else…
In short, we are attempting to cultivate a new family Christmas tradition and tho it might not work every year, for everyone in our expanding family, it is good and we do our best to make it happen. It is relaxing, enjoyable, and generous in memory making moments in time. Gifts of the season that are wrapped in precious, irreplaceable, time.
As for the annual Christmas tree day with Evan and his parent’s, I will long remember moments from years past and the added moments from this year. The happily sung Santa songs, the green dinosaur boots filled with skipping feet on long legs, the bright blue eyes of a delighted 5 year old boy searching rows of fir trees for his “BIG dinosaur tree”. Yes indeed, tho his parent’s had the final say in the tree, I will remember the moments when, as his father and grandfather carried both trees out of the field, he ran alongside yelling…”faster, faster, faster…” ! That little boy in the green dinosaur boots can RUN!!!
MANY Blessings…