Why is it that traditions conjure up memories of holidays, meals and other unique times, but not everyday life? I want my tradition to persist through arduous commutes and annoying clients. I want my tradition to be ME and how I live my life. So I think today will be a day of reflection on the time I spend a slow evening, one in which we have no outside obligation, appointment or activity to attend.
I walk in the door and question “babe?” In response Jim pops around the corner with a little smirk and a quick “Britt?” I get my obligatory hug and peck on the lips, then off with the coat. I hang it over the back of my stool in the kitchen. My purse lands nicely on the seat of the same stool and I kick my shoes onto the small pile of footwear collecting underneath. Then we have the general discussion of how his day went and how mine was crazy. Momentary conversation about his ill father, how very different my family is and I silently mourn my lack of local family. Then he questions the plans for the evening and I head up the stairs to change into running clothes. As I come back down I think how utterly uneventful the evening will be. I put on my shoes, wrap my legs and stretch.
All the while we chat, well mostly I chat and Jim silently listens or ignores depending on his interest that day. My super chattiness is nothing new and he knows how to gracefully balance between annoyance and pure interest. Out the door we go. Run, walk, run until I make it home worn out from the extreme effort it takes to use this unkempt machine I call my body. Stretch, make a salad to accompany dinner. Sit down in my couch. Recline to ice my legs and eat my salad which is Jim’s cue to take over kitchen duties preparing the basic meal that we call dinner tonight. Dinner is consumed, baseball is watched and then it is shower time. After I am warmed up and in pajamas we relax, chat and watch Jeopardy or Bones or NCIS or baseball if the game is still on. Then my spine starts to sleep and the rest of my body follows quickly. I mosey up the stairs and slide under the down comforter. Moments later Jim joins, sets the alarm and it is off to the land of sleeps for a few short hours.
Our house is hardly ever loud and often near silent. We are not entertaining, but we make each other laugh with a simple phrase or even a facial expression. It is really easy for me to get caught in the bustle of life and rush through the simple getting home tradition (routine) that I go through every day missing the moments that become obvious when they should remain unique.
How do you keep creating unique days and moments forever? Keep tradition, I think