I’ve been feeling sort of blah this weekend. Tired, low-energy, quieter than usual. It could be because today is CD1 (again–gotta love having a 23 day cycle), or it could be I’m in another holiday funk. Hubby and I are not religious, and since most holidays are either religion- or family-based, it’s hard when days like today roll around. It’s a day I feel like I should be doing something to celebrate, and yet, there isn’t anything in particular I want to celebrate.
The first year we were dating, Hubby and I did all the (major) holidays. We lit candles for Hanukkah and exchanged gifts at Christmas before I went home to my family and he went to visit his. He arranged and cooked a seder dinner, just for the two of us, at Passover. I made him an Easter basket, and we colored eggs. Since then, we’ve had the odd invitation to a seder, spent Thanksgiving or Christmas with my family (although we no longer buy gifts for each other), and even a Hanukkah with his, but we have no traditions just for us.
I keep thinking that when we have children it’ll be different. That Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny will make their appearances and give some meaning and structure back to these days. That we’ll have a new generation to whom we’ll pass the traditions of our families and cultures. I want that to happen. But in the meantime, I can’t spend each holiday feeling sorry for myself.
A decade ago, I would have gone to church today. I would have prayed and sang and given thanks to a god whom I believed sacrificed something precious for me. I no longer believe in those stories as anything more than metaphor. I no longer have a community with whom I share a set of rituals, a language that bonds us to each other and the higher power we all believed in.
There are other communities to which I belong. But our holidays have different names, are not culturally recognized or relatable. This community, in particular, feels more like a secret society, one to which having a set of unlucky circumstances is the only password. One to which all the members wish they didn’t belong.
So for days like today, it seems Hubby and I need to create our own community. Our own traditions and rituals, separate from the ones with which we were raised, separate from the ones we will one day share with our children. I don’t yet know what those are. And I hope we won’t need them much longer. Which is, perhaps, why they haven’t yet been created.