The Duality of Rituals

As a child, I was very strict about making sure everyone kept our family traditions. There must be candles, soup, and a tablecloth for Friday night. Every week night, I must be tucked in by my mother and she must read me a story, sing me a song, kiss me and say "Night, night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bight. See you in the morning. I love you." My father was not allowed to tuck me in unless in emergency situations when my mother wasn't at home and then he knew exactly one song to sing which was: "Into My Heart." and he would sing exactly two verses of that song. And both of them would leave my door slightly open with the hall light on.

As I've grown older, those and even the more sacred and important Christmas and Thanksgiving traditions adapted or fell by the way side. For the last several years, for instance, we haven't had our traditional, ritualisitc, family Thanksgiving dinner, but have instead opted to meet at my Aunt's house. (Since I only get a lousy four day holiday which wouldn't be enough to come home.)

But I'm not complaining. The slow evolution of rituals is natural and good. It means you are growing and the rituals must change to suit your new needs. As I grow older, I've adopted new rituals. For example, every Saturday morning, I attempt to eat a chocolate-sundae flavored pop-tarte and drink my milk before rushing to Sabbath School. More often than not I fail and have to eat the pop-tart without the milk while walking. But that, too, is part of the ritual. Before I left home, my Saturday moring breakfast ritual included cereal, milk, fruit, and some sort of sweet toast. But I'm not at home and I need something that fits this life. When I have a life and home of my own, perhaps I will revert again to my childhood Saturday morning breakfast ritual.

The point is: whether new or old, rituals are comforting and give you a part of yourself to hang onto. This year, I'm looking forward to reinstating our traditional family Thanksgiving meal. It will be nice to go back and do things like we used to. But we are not the same family we were when I was six, and chances are this Thanksgiving's ritual will be as unique as it is familiar.