Posted by Anne

I believe in the importance of shaking up tradition.  The routines and rituals of our youth don’t always match the logistics of adulthood.  I like to think Life in Pencil attends to this balance—of cherishing tradition, but allowing traditions to evolve and grow.  And that’s why I love Thanksgiving holidays with my family back in the Midwest.  Somehow, we’ve developed a very predictable Thanksgiving routine that still manages to be flexible and honors my adult relationship with my parents.  Traveling so far across the country, I love knowing what awaits me.  For example, I know that the following things will occur during (and surrounding) Thanksgiving:

1. I’ll wake up in my old bedroom (that now looks nothing like my old bedroom), and wander downstairs to find the coffee brewing—an extra large pot, because I’m in town.
2. My parents will try to read the paper in front of the living room fireplace, but I’ll keep interrupting them, and they won’t be able to read a thing.
3. I’ll make the pumpkin pie, using a new pie-crust recipe for the umpteenth time, and get irritated while rolling out the crust.
4. My aunt will awaken at some ungodly hour, just so she can arrive on Thanksgiving Day bearing a perfectly smoked (and insanely large) turkey.  It’s delectable, makes the best turkey sandwiches ever, and she knows it’s my favorite.
5. My Mom’s cranberry sauce—made days in advance—will be sitting in the fridge, ready to go with its perfect blend of tart and sweet.  I’m physically incapable of eating a cranberry without thinking of her.
6. After Thanksgiving, we’ll make our way to my parent’s farm, sit in front of the fire, and eat my Mom’s annual oyster pie accompanied by glasses of golden rich Chardonnay.
7. When we get back to town, we’ll make our way to the beloved and adorable outdoor shopping center near our home.  We’ll shop a little, talk a lot, and land at a bistro for a non-turkey dinner, and yes…a little more wine.

Happy Thanksgiving!

There’s comfort in knowing these traditions.  There’s peace and joy in knowing my “role”, and acting accordingly.  But something scares me.  These traditions will change.  Someday, this current phase of life will morph into a new one, and I’ll have to adjust.  There will be new traditions…new laughs around the dinner table, and new responsibilities.  At this moment, the thought of those changes both excites me and saddens me.  Not because I don’t want these changes…I do.  But there’s a certain anticipatory nostalgia that creeps in, knowing my holidays will always change, and always grow.  And there I go…always looking ahead.  Perhaps I should just, well…give thanks.  For right now.  (And no matter how life changes, I’m not giving up those oysters and wine.)