The true meaning of the holidays
Whenever the holidays are upon us I like to think of the things that matter to me the most. Coffee, dogs named Coco, and of course my family.
Family is a strange thing when you boil it down. Really, it’s only a group of people who choose to connect because of shared genetic code. But there’s something a little more than that. It’s the shared experiences and the bonds that are forged from trust and reliance. It’s the knowledge that no matter where you go in the world, somewhere, someone knows and appreciates you, just for being you.
No matter what your background is, the uniqueness of the stories we carry from our families are our greatest base of relation. We can communicate who we are to anyone by sharing our family. Everyone can relate to the love, drama, and frustration that comes from every family.
For example, whoever has found themselves raised, or married into an Italian family knows there are universal truths. For example:
- My grandmother will always find a way to make you have thirds of every meal
- She will also guilt you into having more food than you have ever thought possible
- Vegetarianism does not exist
- Neither does celiac disease.
- You will hear at least one reference to a story of family members obese childhood (ex. The time my father fell off a bike going down a hill and obliterated a fence like a cannonball)
I think this is what makes the holidays special. We spend so much time working because we want to build our lives to help support those who supported us. But it can be easy to lose sight of that when we just keep pressing forward. The holidays are the reminder that we need to stop and spend time with the people who we work so hard for. I think that’s really what the holidays mean to me. Taking time to appreciate what we have while letting go of what we don’t.
At the end of the day, it’s all we really ever do have.