Trying out Traditions

Some of my widow friends have advised me to keep family traditions just as they’ve always been in this first year after Nate’s death. Others have said it will be too difficult to stick with the old because Nate will be missing, so new traditions are the way to go. As we approach another “first”, actually a series of firsts, (Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day), none of us is sure what to do.

Marshall Fields Sign

Today we decided to continue a time-honored family tradition, eating dinner under the Marshall Fields/Macy’s Christmas tree. Downtown Chicago is always dressed to the nines for the holidays, and Fields in particular goes over the top. Just stepping in off the street causes people to start clicking cameras at the massive glittering displays overhead and in every aisle.

Each year since Nelson was 11 months, Nate and I have taken the kids to the Walnut Room for dinner, late in December. We used to dress them in their festive best and wait up to two hours to get a table. But we were together, and anticipation was half the fun. Nate would walk over from his office three blocks away to get in line as the rest of us  were making our way to the Loop from the suburbs on a train. When the kids were little, the train trip was a highlight, despite frigid wait-times on the “L” platform. Zooming into the subway section of the ride was as good as being at Disneyland.

Fields decorations

When we arrived at the store, we’d find Nate in line with hundreds of other traditionalists. He’d say, “I’ll hold the coats if you want to run around the store.” His arms filled with hefty winter wear, mounded nearly to his eyes, and he’d holler after us, “Check back every fifteen minutes!”  These days Fields/Macy’s hands out pagers, and we have the convenience of cell phones, so no one has to wait in line. The down side is everyone has to hold their own coat.

There were just six of us this year. Our Florida family is readying for the birth of their baby boy. Our British family is saving their dollars anticipating spring-time twins. But the other five kids and I decided we’d pursue the same plan as always, dinner in the Walnut Room.

Fields Tree

I didn’t anticipate it would be so difficult. As Nelson and I drove in from Michigan, we talked about how this was Nate’s kind of event, his family gathered around him and good food served in a fancy restaurant with excellent service. He always tipped the waitresses extra, knowing they had families to buy gifts for, wanting to brighten their lives. Sometimes he tipped them 40%. I used to glance at what he handed them and say, “Really? Is that much necessary?” Of course it wasn’t, but on this annual occasion, he always did it.

Tonight as we studied the familiar menus, I looked at the end of the table where Nate always sat and couldn’t hold back the tears. It seemed so wrong that he wasn’t there championing the dinner as he always had. I muttered through my tears, “Papa would have had the lobster bisque and chicken pot pie.” Heads nodded around the table.

“And a sugar cookie,” Lars said, “about an inch thick, mostly frosting.”

Fields Windows, Fam. Picture

We got through it, but it was a major effort. I cried most of the way back to Michigan, longing so badly to connect with Nate on this particular day. Grieving is a slow process, I guess, and falling tears are part of moving forward. It’s encouraging to know, from friends who’ve already done this, that grieving does eventually end. I can’t imagine what that will feel like, but as always, I choose to believe the ones who know what they’re talking about.

“Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.” (Ephesians 3:20)

9 thoughts on “Trying out Traditions

  1. Dear Margaret,
    I’m no therapist but I vote for what you did-taking action and crying. The old “kites fly the highest against a strong wind” idea and “crying makes one feel better”. Tears are delivered to the nose through the nosolacramal duct. Drug snorters know the nose is an important conduit to the brain. So if tears really do have endorphins, maybe that is why they seem to be emotionally effective. I cannot site any research data that clearly validates such a physiolgic mechanism. More importantly I think it is what both Ione and Evelyn and a whole host of their friends would have done. Our mothers may not always have known best but they sure knew a lot.

    I really enjoyed the pictures in tonight’s blog. Ione used to take us kids there each December when we were the age of your kids in the picture–55-60 years ago. We would occasionally meet up with our Aunt Alice Safstrom. What great memories.
    Regards,
    Fellows

  2. Margaret..I’m so glad you kept the tradition of the dinner; even tho Nate and the children from Fla. and England were not there in body…they were certainly there in spirit…things of the spirit heart – in Jesus – never die…they become memories to cherish…and you will make your ‘new’ traditions as you move forward with your life…just as your married children will do with their families…I believe when each date comes up…you’ll know the ‘right’ thing to do. I say “enjoy the moment and experience enjoying the memories”
    God Bless…patzian

  3. No great comments Margaret, except bless you for walking through the grief to moments of joy. Loved the photos of one of our special places that we miss in Chicago besides Moody Church and our friends. (just ordered 2 1lb boxes of Frango Mints from Macey’s just for me) It felt like home looking at the photos and your family looks wonderful.

  4. So many firsts,for several of us widows. (widowers, too) Thank God, we have tears, because we miss wonderful spouses, and all the great traditional events, that we shared with each other.
    Your words, and photos every now and then, bring back memories. We are walking the same road, with the Lord.
    I miss my parents, especially at Christmas; they worked at State St. Goldblatts. Dad, a carpenter, made the North Pole scenes for the big street windows, from the 1940’s thru 1952.

  5. I’m proud of you for going even though it was difficult. I remember the first Mother’s Day after I lost my daughter…I forced myself to go to church even though I didn’t really want to. I wore a corsage and stood when all the other mothers did (with tears streaming down my cheeks). It was so hard.

    Years later I second-guessed myself, saying that I really hadn’t needed to go and I shouldn’t have forced myself too. Then more recently I decided it was good that I did – even though it was so hard, I faced it head-on and nothing seemed too insurmountable after that.

    We were downtown last Thursday to see The Nutcracker and then we took the kids to Macy’s and ate at the Walnut Room. I don’t know if it will become a tradition but it sure was fun and they loved it – it was their first time there.

    My thoughts and prayers will be with you, Margaret, through this week with all of its bittersweet memories.

    Love,
    Lori

  6. I remember being there with you once with Mom, both of us jet-leg dizzy. Fantastic place.
    When my brother died 5 1/2 years ago we decided to change the christmas routine. It would have been to painful doing the same thing waiting for him to arrive. Mom and Dad came to us in Norway instead and we had a good holiday. Now we are back to mom and dad’s again but slightly different and all are ok with it. I felt that it was to painful and had to take it in small portions. Worked for us.

    You will all be in our thoughts this Christmas.

    Love, Karin and family

  7. in the bottom picture it’s like, “who’s the blind kid in the back with sunglasses on inside?” it just always seems so bright.

  8. I still have a keepsake mug from the walnut room from when I went with your family. It’s amazing to me how many of your family traditions are also a huge part of my past because you were so kind (and I blessed) to include me. I am glad you decided to continue the tradition as you will be when you look back on it. The same happens in our family, it’s a bittersweet season but we do it as my dad would have wanted, and Nate would have wanted it this way too. Much Love, Nancy