Tradition. What is “tradition” exactly? Well, Webster defines it as “cultural continuity in social attitudes, customs and institutions, the handing down of customs by word of mouth from one generation to another without written instruction.” I would say this definition on paper makes sense but when experienced in one’s family during Christmas time it takes on a whole new meaning…
Growing up in a large Italian family where traditions and family gatherings are like the Israelites crossing over the red sea; one learns how to adapt and engross themselves in the beauty of laughter and uniqueness.
December 25th Christmas day… is unlike any other “normal” family gathering in fact this day is one of the biggest events of the year. If I could paint the picture for you reader, I would say that after experiencing this day you could end up slightly louder, crazier, and more boisterous then ever before. That is not including the massive amount of possible weight gain from the struffala and cookie intake. For those of you who may not know what a struffala is I would like to take these next two sentences to wet your palette and leave you longing for a savory bite for one of these miniature goodness’s. Struffala an Italian delicacy. Who couldn’t possibly fall in love with a deep fried piece of circular dough dipped in honey and lathered with decorative sprinkles? A family legacy and tradition found in many Italian homes during the Christmas season. Well, back to what I was saying after an experience like that living in a quiet one bedroom apartment would quickly loose it luster. At grandma’s and poppy’s everyone and everything has a place, in a crazy sort of beautiful, commotional, experiential way.
The house is budding with plush red poinsettias and a plethora of Christmas lights. Small candles light the windows and grandma’s large Christmas tree takes up the entire living room. It’s filled with large bulb colored lights that shimmer just right when the flashes of pictures reflect off them. Not only are digital camera flashes flying but voices reach that wonderful high pitch as they soar across the house saying, “Ma, get ova hea the kids are takin there picha.” Those who are not accustomed to a New Yorkers accent would translate it as “Mom, would you mind coming over with your camera to take a picture of children as they smile by the tree?” Oh and boy do the flashes fly when the grandkids are coaxed into taking their “yearly” picture. This year the picture continues to grow because spouses are now apart of this unforgettable experience. However, after 26 years of posing for this memorable picture it still holds that magical youthful moment from Christmas pasts. As I disappear for a moment from the pandemonium and pass throughout the house I notice there are multiple displays of this similar picture, in front of poppy and grandma’s unchanged tree, in the unchanged room, from Christmas’s long ago. As I gaze on these treasures and reminiscence it brings an all too familiar feeling of the warmth and joy of family traditions. Welcoming me back into the Christmas pandemonium is my mom who has gathered great aunts, uncles, 1st, 2nd and 3rd cousins around the table for our tradition of singing the “12 Days of Christmas.” The fun has only just begun…
