“tradition” is a poem that captures the beauty of my family’s annual holiday traditions and how my struggle with change has impacted my perception of the constants in life.

the doorbell rings, and the winter season begins–
my sister enters, followed by my younger cousins from Connecticut, my older cousins  from Virginia and Arkansas, and all my aunts and uncles.
suddenly, the house is chirping, energetic, and loud,
just like every other Christmas break.


the break begins with a customary trip to Target,
our cart overflowing with boxes of Milano cookies, Takis, and powdered sugar donuts.
my cousins run around Target, the nine of us crowding every isle we enter—
our first holiday tradition.


“The Grinch” plays on the television,
as we sit on the floor of our family room,
glueing gumdrops onto the gingerbread house with a mountain of icing—
our second holiday tradition.


we drive to lake hiawatha,
home to a quaint downtown and my childhood ice cream parlor.
laughter lights up the street,
ice cream dripping down our cones—
our third holiday tradition.


the echoes of our chatter can be heard into the night,
as my cousins and i make our way around Morristown Greene.
the trees are lit with strings of lights,
and the lampposts are decorated with luminous snowflakes.
we walk through the cold, beautiful downtown–
our fourth holiday tradition.


we circle around the Christmas tree,
gifts piling under the tree for my cousins and our parents.
my cousins sport our comfortable holiday attire: 
plaid pajama pants and a plain t-shirt.
the adults record our reactions,
faces glowing with joy at their presents—
our fifth holiday tradition.


however,
this year is different. 
my younger cousins are now at the age
where their voices sound deeper, 
and they have grown independent.
they now kneel in family photos;
and use familiar slang, cracking jokes that i’d hear my classmates make.


my older cousins have also changed.
once the remaining two seniors graduate, 
i will be the only one left in high school.
conversation topics vary between college to internships to extracurriculars,
and i am suddenly on the sidelines of every discussion;
time fleets quicker than any of us would like.


the thing is,
i changed too.
i grew more confident,
more vocal about my needs.
i expressed my feelings of exclusion,
and my cousins responded with support.


i began to realize:
perhaps change is nice–
new experiences, new memories, new traditions.


as we grow older, we will learn more about each other and ourselves,
forging an even stronger connection.
though the constants are treasured, 
the unpredictable circumstances open doors to fresh ideas

… and i’m excited to see what’s next.

Process

My poem, “tradition,” is inspired by my family’s annual winter break traditions. Many of my most cherished memories come from these winter breaks with my family, and through my poem, I try to convey how special each tradition is in my heart. The poem initially began as a simple entry in my free write journal; it was a response to my fear at how much had changed during last winter break, especially since I always considered these traditions a constant in my life. I poured my experiences and pent-up thoughts into my journal, and writing about them pen-to-paper helped me recognize that I didn’t need to dread change – it could truly be a blessing – which I hope is reflected in my poem.