A Bittersweet Reinvention

12.22.2010

I’ve been slowly getting ready for our traditional Lithuanian Christmas Eve dinner which, a couple of weeks ago, I was debating on whether or not I even wanted to do. It’s a lot of preparation. Growing up, we’d all be assigned different tasks in order to make the dinner but, now, it’s all on my shoulders.

I decided to do it because it’s the only thing I have left connected to my childhood. Not having any family in the States anymore (other than my sister but I’m the older one…) so it’s kind of up to me to follow through on any traditions. But what’s sad is that those traditions, as they stand now, are hanging by a thread. I’m having a rough time with this. When you’re a kid, the adults figure it out for you.

My mom, sister and I would always go to Chicago for Christmas. Very rarely would we not, so by Thanksgiving, there was a trip in the next month for which to plan. I looked forward to the travel and to the prospect of having an actual white Christmas. I’d see my extended family, get to eat my grandmother’s pancakes, and stay up late. It’s been many years since this and I’ve been floundering. At least for a while my mom was still in the States and we’d go to Lithuania for Christmas or my grandmother would fly out here. Things were different but we could at least pretend that there was some sort of “normalcy” to how they were before. But then that stopped and I haven’t been able to figure out what’s going to happen. Every year this time comes around and I have no idea what to expect. Honestly, I don’t know why I really care because Christmas is a fabrication of the Church to stamp out paganism, but, whatever the reason, it still makes me sad that there isn’t a definite plan that I know of ahead of time.

Part of me tells myself that things would change if kids were in the picture. I think parents want to create a similar experience for their kids and so family traditions, rituals, etc are created or brought back. And I’m OK with creating our own new traditions and rituals but this makes me feel scared. It’s one more example of getting older, of life moving forward and a separation from my past. This space that I’m in right now, and have been for a while, puts me in limbo and the unknown is always scary. I don’t know when I’ll next have a Christmas with my mom and my grandmother, if at all, and so I’m left to reinvent this holiday for myself and my (new) family. As much potential as this might present, it’s bittersweet. But in life, I guess, that’s nothing new.