Traditions… continue
Here’s something I wrote in 2021 that feels perfect to reference at this time of year.
Before Michael and I started our family, we began our lives together, partly wondering “Where do we want to begin our traditions?” I suppose these words consciously may not have been stated in this exact way, but their essence did.
Tradition offers an excellent context for a
meaningful pause and reflection.
I wanted to live in a place with seasons including snow, Michael wanted a place with seasons (without TOO much snow). My California upbringing had me weary of the constant 74 degree weather and seeking diversity, while Michael’s Michigan upbringing of “9 months of winter and 3 months of road repair” had him begging for sun and seeking balance. We chose the Avenues near downtown Salt Lake City. I like to say that we chose the Avenues because it’s one of Utah’s oldest neighborhoods, first surveyed in the 1850s. I also like to say that we chose the Avenues because it has the largest municipal cemetery in the United States, residing on 250 acres of old growth trees with herds of deer and skulk of foxes. I’ve even been awakened by a herd of deer led by an 8-point buck traveling in front of my house at 3:00 a.m.
But the truth is …
