When Do You Break Tradition?

Little by little, I’m trying to plan for Thanksgiving.  Tonight, I did a once through deep clean (at least as deep as my clean’s get) and got the table, with the extra leaf, in place.

At the grocery store, I started to pick up some of the things that I’m going to need.  BBQ sauce and Apricot preserves for the meatballs that always precede the main meal.  Rolls.  Stuffing.  I’m slowly checking things off the list.  The turkey will probably be purchased this weekend and ingredients for my mother’s squash casserole.  Everything as it’s always been.

But only a few weeks ago, I was debating whether to just take everyone out to eat.  Find a buffet.  Pay.  Easy!  I should, I thought.  But you can see where that got me…changing my mind.  Now wanting to change the tradition. So when is it OK to change or break a tradition?  Do you have to wait until it feels right or do you just have to plunge ahead?

As a young child, Thanksgivings were at my aunt and uncles.  After breakfast we would head over and spend the day.  They had a great house on the lake and everyone would sit around, tell stories, hang out.  There were smiles and food.  Over the years, the group changed.  My cousin grew up.  My aunt and uncle divorced.  My mother, well, she didn’t “do” Thanksgiving.  So as a teenager, our family Thanksgivings became the beach or the Keys.  I could understand my parents wanting to do something special because it was also their anniversary, so our tradition became a family vacation…until I graduated from college.

That year, the one after I was on my own, was the first time I cooked a turkey.  It was my first Thanksgiving dinner.  And every year for the last 30 plus, I have cooked Thanksgiving dinner.  Locations have changed.  Family has changed.  My parents are no longer around.  My three children have been born and are now grown.  My husband and I are no longer together.  And yet, it’s Thanksgiving.  And I am planning to prepare the same meal that I have for SO many years!

I tried to change the tradition this year.  I really thought about it.  But in the end, the pull was too strong!  I could not yet give it up.  I dream of one day going on a trip.  Escaping to the mountains.  Or Italy.  But not yet, and may be never.  But I hope that I will pass this baton onto the next generation, to carry forward as they see fit.  (And I hope that I won’t be one to judge.)

So my son is here.  My youngest arrives tonight.  My middle daughter and my grand puppies will get here on Wednesday. My ex-husband and his girlfriend will also be part of the day.

Traditions.  Sometimes even when it’s time, they bend before they break!