Passing Traditions

 When I was a child, I loved Halloween. 

In general, I've always appreciated autumn; the world seems like it is withering away, yet there's a graceful poetry to it. It's as though the earth knows she must let go of the past to transform in the spring, but first she grieves through the winter. 

As a kid, of course, I had no such eloquent musings, just the joy of the traditions. Dressing in costume, attending Halloween parties with family, carving pumpkins, and sipping hot apple cider on cold evenings (from our special Halloween mugs) created a magic in October that stays with me as an adult. There aren't specific memories, but more imprints; they come back as feelings, thoughts, smells, and sights that warm the edges of the season. These family traditions can be attributed largely to an intentional effort on the part of my parents, particularly my mom. They happened every year because she took the time and effort to make our childhoods special and we happily obliged. Now that I'm a mother with kids of my own, I can see how the traditions that shape my family's memories require that same intentional effort, even if I didn't appreciate it as a kid.

When I met my husband, Niles, he had his own Halloween tradition of watching a scary movie every night in the month of October. The first year we were together, he was living an hour away and we would watch in the evenings, he at his place and me at mine, enjoying something together even though we were apart. Then, as time went on, life got in the way. The past few years, we've had some pretty big mountains to climb and this tradition, which was rooted in spending meaningful time together no matter what, had fallen to the wayside. 

Relationships, with our kids, with our spouses, with our friends, require us to spend that intentional time together forming memories and traditions. Watching a movie was a small but important tradition that connected us. Lately, it feels like those connections are few and far between. 

Just like in the fall, it feels like change is coming; I'm grieving the life that is passing away, the life of little voices, Halloween costumes, and Hocus Pocus; going to the Pumpkin Patch and carving pumpkins; holding little hands as they trick or treat and reminding them to say "thank you"; listening to Halloween music in the car and snuggling under blankets with hot cider. While time rushes by, I am trying to hold fast to the traditions, because I know sooner or later, all that will be left is the memories of those traditions. There will be new ones, new beautiful new memories, and a whole world of wonderful experiences afterwards, but for now, I'll keep watching movies (and whatever else I can still manage) with the people I love.