File: Holidays

I'm sitting in our new condo, waiting for food to arrive, as I contemplate the Christmas tree. I am a happy being.

I've been thinking about the holidays recently. It's ironic to have a bounty of homes (ok, two, but still), yet still feel homeless. Such is the case when one moves. I have a similar feeling about the holidays.

I love going to Matt's folks in Ohio for Christmas. There's something magical about having Christmas morning at Nanny and Papa's. Nanny has so much joy for the day. It's great fun to have the whole gang troop over, gather in a large circle in the basement, and let the present-opening begin. But I know when I'm in Ohio, I'm not in Florida with my parents. There's over a dozen of us that gathers in Columbus. My folks just have us. (Okay, that's not entirely true, as my aunt and cousins come over too. My aunt's parents, who have been like grandparents to me, attend. Often, my friend Travis joins us for the festivities as well.)

I'm not saying what I want to say well. What I'm trying to say is that the holidays are now happy-sad, to use a Cabbage Patch Kids term. I wish I could split myself in two, three, or four (that's really what's needed: one of me with my folks, one with Matt's mom's folks, one with Matt's dad's folks, and one of me soaking in the Jacuzzi tub).

I am especially contemplative because we don't have any real traditions and I'd like to create them. Other than the putting the spinning dreidel on the roof (I'll try and post video as Hanukkah approaches), and the nine-foot menorah on the lawn (the one pictured below was the first incarnation and is only a six-footer), we mostly spent the holidays lighting the menorah and opening presents each night.



Christmas was spent celebrating my birthday, normally with my mom serving a baked ziti. It was great. Now, it's spent in a whole different way. My birthday, which is always remembered by Matt, is often an afterthought by the rest of the gang who are busy and stressed and just trying to make it through Christmas. (I can't really blame them, but I always miss a cake with my name on it and actual birthday paper. I realize it's awkward timing, a tradition I began at birth and continue to this day, but birthdays do get a little lonely for me.)

Hanukkah, too, isn't really mentioned, (not for any real reason, I think) but when I'm away and I don't light the menorah, I feel sad and like I'm not being true to my traditions. (Although last year, at Matt's dad's celebration, we lit the menorah. It was sort of awkward because we did it during the day, but also really cool that he thought of it.) The first few nights of Hanukkah fall while we're in Cleveland next weekend, celebrating an early Christmas. Maybe we can talk to Matt's dad about lighting the menorah again. That would help, I think.

It's ironic, because here I am blogging about the circumstances around an interfaith holiday, but the first thing I thought to do when it turned December was put the tree up. Our tree is beautiful, even though we phoned it in this year, and didn't put on all of the ornaments. It does have a string of Hanukkah lights as garland. I think our electric menorah finally gave up last year (it had been lit for as long as I can remember), so we'll have to get another one this year and place it next to the tree. I love how the menorah and the Christmas tree look together. It reminds me how special and lucky we are to have each other -- and each other's traditions.

I was reading URJ's magazine Reform Judaism, and they talked about how interfaith couples "do" the holidays. One couple asked their family to wrap their stuff in Hanukkah paper. Another family still did the big Christmas shindig, but also hosted a Hanukkah party for the family with potato latkes, dreidels, and much singing. We don't have anything like that yet.

I'm really looking forward to making our own traditions. We have one: the special ornament tradition. Every year since we started dating, we give each other an ornament. It's the last ornament we put on the tree. I can't wait until we spend more time together and create additional traditions that we can pass onto the next generation. (Is that little feet I hear?) And, maybe, one year, we'll just stay home for the holidays. My fourth self really loves the idea of that jacuzzi.