When the Tradition is That Everything is Different

I love traditions. Always have.

Every year since I started eating solid foods, my birthday dinner has been my Nana’s meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and stewed carrots and peas.

Every year, Christmas Eve dinner was two kinds of shrimp, New England clam chowder, and crab legs. It was followed by prime rib, roasted potatoes, and asparagus on Christmas Day.

I’m a foodie. Can you tell?

I look forward to holidays and celebrations, in large part because I know the holiday-specific meals are coming.

Or, I used to.

Military life has changed those meal traditions a bit. Often, my husband isn’t home, and honestly, he’s the better cook.

Now, six years into this life, I don’t mind. In fact, I’ve come to enjoy the spontaneity of holiday celebrations.

How did I, someone who loves to do certain things annually, come to grips with and come to appreciate that no two Valentine’s Days would be the same?

My pining for the past was redirected to appreciation for the present and eager anticipation for the future.

What did that look like?

A few things:

1.  Celebrating early.

When my soldier got his orders for basic training, I figured out which holidays we would spend apart and planned out Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, and his birthday, and we celebrated them all in seven days. Each celebration was complete with the clothes we would typically wear, food we would eat, and music we would listen to on themed Pandora stations.

2. “Open when…” letters and sending snail mail.

I wrote a letter for my soldier to read en route to basic training, and I loved writing it, so I made a new-to-us tradition: letter writing. It became part of my daily routine to write a letter (or two), and when a holiday was coming up, I added holiday themed cards to my weekly batch. I even tried April Fool’s Day. At the beginning of the card, I told him I couldn’t make it to graduation, and at the end, I told him I was kidding.

(Note: It’s what I did, but I don’t recommend it. He said he was sad when he read it, and even after he finished, it took a minute to recover). You can still do April Fool’s… I’d just recommend less of a gut punch!

Open-when letters are notes you write to your significant other to help them when they feel or experience something that they wish you were there for. Typically, you write “Open when you are feeling..happy/excited/stressed/lonely/miss me…etc.,” on the front of the envelope, and the note expresses what you would say or do in the situation.

For a really-close-to comprehensive list of “Open when…” ideas, click here.

3. Do something different every year.

How is it traditional to do something differently? It is a tradition in the sense that, at its core, we just want to enjoy the time we have together, wherever we are.

St. Patrick’s Day is one of those that’s been different. We’ve been apart. We’ve been together. We’ve had corned beef and cabbage at home. We’ve gone to an Irish pub for bangers and mash. We’ve played my Celtic Mayhem CD on loop. We’ve sung the Irish Rovers a capella all day.

4.   Be together in whatever way you can be.

On New Year’s Eve, 2019, my husband had staff duty, and I was home with our toddler. I’m super sentimental, and I love the midnight kiss tradition. I couldn’t make that happen, so I sent him a text at midnight with heart emojis. Cheesy? Yes.

Did he appreciate that I made the best of the situation? Absolutely.

If you’re not in the same place, but can communicate, consider a phone or video call. If your service member can’t talk but has their phone, send a text or email.

5. Feel the feelings.

I felt all the feelings that come with change: excitement, frustration, curiosity, sadness, annoyance, fear, and more.

One of the first things I learned about military life is that nothing stays the same forever. Change is the name of the game. And I’ll be honest—I’m someone who likes to plan, who needs time to adjust to new things, and isn’t wild about most kinds of surprises.

I do, however, love my soldier.

And when you love someone, you surprise yourself and others with the things you are capable of, and willing to try. That’s what happened when my husband told me we were going to Hawaii, and two weeks later said, “How do you feel about New York?”

I just laughed.

It didn’t matter. All I cared about was being with him, and rebuilding the winter wardrobe I’d just depleted.

This year, St. Pat’s and Easter will be spent packing and clearing Fort Drum. My husband’s 40th birthday, which I’d been hoping to spend with him in Rome, will be spent in the mandatory quarantine that comes with a PCS (for now).

Not what I planned, or what I used to look forward to, but it is more than okay. We’re going to be together. And in this military life, that’s something to appreciate.