Almost every holiday starts at the breakfast table in my house.
Decorations hang from the chandelier, a message is posted on the menu chalkboard, and at each place setting you will find a card or a small gift. We celebrate early, a habit echoing my own childhood delight at waking up to a heart-shaped box of chocolates and a homemade valentine in my mother’s home, and because work and school often send my family in different directions, leaving breakfast the only consistent time we spend together.
It was glorious celebrating St. Valentine on a Saturday this year. Of course, the children had class parties the day before, but on Saturday we ate heart-shaped toast topped with cream cheese and strawberries, followed by chocolates and doughnuts. We didn’t rush out the door or even out of our pajamas. Who wouldn’t love that?
In the middle of the table was the pink shoebox decorated with hearts that served as a valentine mailbox for our family cards. We ripped it open, passed out our love letters, kissed and hugged, and that was it. I had wanted a family outing, but we were lazy in the morning and had to be home for an afternoon delivery. We ate heart-shaped sandwiches for lunch and had a delicious tapas dinner, topped with heart-shaped cupcakes.
But most of the day was just hanging out. At one point Max asked me what we were going to do for Valentine’s, clearly expecting more.
“Well, this is it. We opened our valentines and ate yummy food.”
“But that’s not a holiday!” he insisted. “We didn’t get anything.”
“Well, first of all you did get things. You got treasures from your class, chocolates from us, a stuffed animal and puzzle from Nana, and lots of valentine cards,” I countered. “But more important, getting things is not what holidays are about. Maybe you’ve been given too much if that’s what you think holidays are for: kids getting stuff. Holidays are about celebrating life with your family.”
The funny thing is, I’d never articulated that thought before. My children get less than most kids around us. Partly due to a tight family budget, but mostly due to the values my husband and I want to impart upon them. I was truly shocked that the dominant cultural message of materialism had infiltrated his heart at the tender age of six considering how much our family teaches the opposite. It gave me pause.
Why do we celebrate holidays?
I’ve taken great strains to teach my children the history of holidays and explain the meaning of traditions. Every year we read stories and nonfiction books about every single holiday. We learn phrases in foreign languages, listen to exotic music, and eat food from different cultures. But Max’s unsavory observation prompted me to stop looking at holidays in a piecemeal fashion, taking each one as it comes, and ask the larger question of why we celebrate at all.
The fact is our culture has shifted far away from the roots and religious connotations for most of our holidays. My own heart has drifted from my Catholic upbringing. And yet some traditions are so ingrained in me, the year would be empty without holidays. Also, in the last few years I’ve been drawn to celebrate holidays from other cultures which are brand new additions to my life: Mardi Gras, Chinese New Year, Diwali, Tanabata. We started celebrating these holidays as a way to introduce other cultures to our children, but it didn’t take long for these “new” holidays to become our own.
Why do we celebrate holidays?
The answer I gave Max on the fly is the same one I arrived at after reflection.
I want to celebrate capital- L Life! In the dizzying spin of our whirling earth and merry-go-round calendars brimming with To Dos, I want to press the STOP button from time to time. I want my beloveds to gather around a table to feast and find something to laugh about. I want to serve enough wine and enough sugar to bring everyone to their feet to dance. I want to collapse on the couch and not care about bedtimes and behavior when the kids inevitably take it too far. I want a chance to look up at the sky and appreciate the drunken dizziness Life brings me even on my most sober day.
And for my children…
I want them to understand the primacy of family. I want them to see how spending time together with beloveds usurps work and money. I want to fill their little hearts with memories of magic, not the false fantasy that Santa represents, but the real magic of love: its vibrational energy pulsing around the table, bouncing off the walls, and filling us up with nothing less than the Divine.
The most valuable possession any of us has is time. And that is exactly what I want to wrap up in a pretty bow and give to my beloveds every holiday, from the moment they open their eyes.
Today is Mardi Gras, and as they say in New Orleans: Laissez les bon temps rouler! (Let the god times roll!)
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