…that I couldn’t complete my Christmas dinner toast. I was so happy to have my family and my son’s lovely girlfriend with us for yet another Christmas, that when it was my turn to offer a toast, all I could do was stammer a few words and wipe the tears as we all clincked our glasses. Lately I’ve attributed some of my “see a sad picture, weep a little” to hormones, but Christmas was all emotion. To have us all together, with a +1 (we’ve done this before but it didn’t stick; he wasn’t worthy of our daughter), was nearly more than my heart could stand. I redefined what “fulfilled” means to me.
While Chris and I, as parents and establishers of the traditions we currently hold dear and continue (my mother’s Italian sausage Christmas Eve dish we will prepare, both vegan and carnivore-style I’ll cook until I can’t cook anymore), we’re open to what our progeny bring to the celebrations, and add to the traditions. We all believe in the magic that we call Christmas…I prefer to believe that we all are invested in the magic of family, tradition, and love of what we have, who we are, and who we are to be. Traditions can be tweaked, and thus are fluid. I love that I can share my family’s Christmas Eve tradition, and add the family’s take on other traditions around the holidays.
As for New Year’s Day traditions: I made a black-eye pea dish with Iranian wheat berries, kale, and other ingredients. I had a recipe and used it as a guideline . It was delicious, and I was happy to make a tasty dish that honored Chris’s roots, as well as my own “let’s green it up” vibe.
Happy New Year, and thanks for reading.