Now What?! Keeping holiday memories alive

The holiday season brings a rush of things to those of us who choose to celebrate. Even in the best of circumstances – which I believe we can all agree 2020 is not – this rush of things is not always positive, even though the season brings gifts, cards, baked goods, gatherings, decorations, and favorite holiday movies.

That list is ambiguous because, on the flip side, someone has to buy the gifts, order and address the cards, bake the goods, organize the gatherings, string up the decorations, and agree on a movie. For those who find themselves manning those tasks, it can be a bit daunting. The older I’ve gotten, I find myself thinking, ‘WWVD?’ Translation for those not in my head: “What Would Vilma Do?”

Vilma is my mother and in the holidays of my youth was the master of the juggle. In full transparency, I will fully acknowledge our holidays were not relaxing and easy-going by any means. However, my mom created memories and traditions for us in a way that I can’t help but feel I’m not honoring when I try to take the easy way out.

I have joked with my mom (and other family members) that I was never in question of my mom’s feelings. She wore her heart on her sleeve when she was annoyed, sad, or angry. But what she didn’t make obvious is when she was tired. Not just physically but emotionally. Her mind always was moving, not only to make sure traditions moved full steam ahead but did so on a budget.

When I was about 11 years old, my mom started to create scavenger hunts for my sisters, cousins, and me to find our gifts. I discovered years later that the purpose wasn’t necessarily to make the day more fun but to stretch out gifts or make a gift a bigger deal than the price tag would insinuate. It was how gift-giving on a budget didn’t seem as such.

It was only when I began creating these hunts for my own son that I realized just how much thought goes into making them special; my mom made them seem effortless. When I want to just wrap a present for him and put it under the tree, I remind myself that he loves these hunts and WWVD? She wouldn’t take the easy way out.

It would have been easier for my mom to make cookies, candies, and fudge for gatherings or friends by herself but instead she made ‘cookie day’ a tradition for us and our cousins.

Again, full transparency, cookie day became more of a source of stress the older I got than a tradition I appreciated. We didn’t just make basic sugar cookies or gingerbread men. My mom would gather the ingredients of our favorites year to year and make sure stations were set up and the double ovens were perpetually warmed.

My oldest sister loved to make meltaways and my mom would prepare the dough ahead of time to ensure it was chilled and ready for rolling into balls, baking, and powdering. One of my cousins always chose to make cherry-winks and, along the same lines, my mom would prepare the main dough ahead of time. Although this year we won’t be making anything together, I hope that my son, nieces, and nephews will enjoy this in Christmases to come with their grandmother.

When I find myself thinking of ordering chocolates or premade baked goods as gifts, I remind myself that baked goods are a love language for my mom. When you take the time to make something for someone else with your own hands, it is an expression of love and appreciation. Before I make my mom and her baking and cooking into too much of a saint, I should also point out that I have been taught, with stipulations, by the master herself how to make her peanut butter fudge. It is very involved down to the kind of saucepan to use. The stipulation is that as long as she is alive (her words), I am not allowed to make the fudge for anyone that she knows or for whom she might still make the fudge. Don’t tell her but I may have snuck my dad some fudge every now and then.

During a recent conversation with my sister, who lives in Pennsylvania and wasn’t able to come home for Thanksgiving, we were a bit sentimental. She told me that she planned to make our mom’s sausage stuffing for her own gathering. I started to explain that I didn’t feel like making anything and would be buying a pre-made side dish and pies.

Then I stopped myself. That isn’t how we were raised to approach a holiday, even if nothing has been normal in 2020.

Instead, I created a grocery list of the ingredients for a family favorite in the category of side dishes as well as the ingredients for a relatively involved Southern Living bundt cake. (Sidenote: They both tasted delicious even though the cake wasn’t as pretty as I would have liked.)

If I have learned anything from this year, it is to focus on what matters most. This time of year, what matters most to me are the memories that I have of Thanksgivings and Christmases past – those from my own youth or in the early years of my marriage or the first Christmases of so many in the next generation of our family.

The simple answer to WWVD is: Since it is the thought that counts, make sure your gesture is thoughtful and not just easy.