Letter from the Editor: Creating a home of holiday traditions

By Courtney Warren

The holiday season is such a bittersweet time for me for so many reasons. I have a pretty spread-out family that stretches across three states making it difficult for us to gather during the holidays. My sweet girl’s birthday was also on Thanksgiving Day this year so as I prepare for Christmas, I’m already adjusting to being the mommy to a girl one year older. 

I try to keep her birthdays in perspective and, rather than be sad she’s growing up, I’m thrilled that I get another year with her. More time to make memories.

With our recent fabulous front page article about the Snow Village coming to Canton Christmas Festival, I began to think about my own holiday traditions. 

What are the traditions that I have carried into my own home? Why are they important to me? 

The first is the colored lights on the Christmas tree. There was always a battle between my parents about whether or not we’d have colored lights or white lights. Rainbow goodness on the tree always prevailed. 

Another is watching A Christmas Story for 24 hours on Christmas Day. It’s on every TV, and no one is allowed to change the channel. I have the entire film memorized and soon, Nana (my daughter) will too. Brett hates the movie but hey, it’s tradition in this home! 

Lastly, and one that serves zero purpose other than I do it simply because it makes me smile, is the “just a cup” eggnog recipe. 

My grandfather, my dad’s dad, died when I was around Nana’s age. I remember a few things about him–screenshots of memories from when I was very young. He called me Magnolia Sue, and he called my brother Jack Leroy. 

Occasionally, phrases he said as my dad grew up will slip through Dad and into his everyday actions. 

One of those phrases is “just a cup.” At Christmastime, Papa John made a huge bowl of eggnog. Dad has always done the same. For the final “ingredient,” he adds rum but that “just a cup” is never a cup. With a mischievous grin and Dad pulling out the phrase “juuuuuust a cup,” the rum pours over the edges of his measuring cup and into the large mixing bowl of eggnog. 

I can’t stand eggnog and I don’t drink alcohol, but I make the “just a cup” eggnog recipe whether Dad is visiting or not. 

It’s tradition, and, useful or not, I’ve made it a part of our Christmas home.

So as we enter this holiday season, I’m beginning to wonder what holiday traditions I want to make sure Nana holds on to. What moments will she lovingly make and leave on the counter in her own home, even though no one will drink it?

I hope she always remembers that every single ornament on the tree in her childhood home has a story behind it. Either she made it, it was a gift from a student, or it was a vacation memory. I hope she remembers going to eat Chinese food in our pajamas. I hope she remembers her daddy’s “Gotta get up” Christmas morning song. I hope she remembers the candy cane countdown. I hope she remembers whatever new traditions we come up with in our home between now and the time she leaves us for college–and beyond. But more importantly, I hope she thinks back on her childhood holidays and knows that no matter where she is, there will always be a home that has a tree filled with ornaments made by her when she was in kindergarten, eggnog on the counter that no one plans to drink, and her stocking on the mantle. Even as she eventually makes her own holiday home traditions, her stocking will always be on the mantle of my holiday home.