Monday Musings #2

Doughnuts and Camping

A campfire crackles in the center of a circle that contains some of the people I love best. A few read books and occasionally offer a comment to the group at large. The teenagers chat quietly after roughhousing in the hammock. Another trio bats a badminton birdie back and forth. Two little ones are getting ready for bed in a blue tent. We’re all mellow after a day spent together.

Thirteen is said to be unlucky, but to me it’s the perfect number. Our children, their spouses, and our grandchildren along with my husband and me comprise thirteen. I am blessed by having each one of these people in my life, and doubly blessed by being together with them. Our annual camping trip, just 3-4 nights, has become a summer tradition. We didn’t set out to create a tradition as such, but early in the new year, our event planner, aka daughter-in-law Katie, starts talking about where to book a campsite and asks which dates will work for each family. The tradition grew organically, a camping trip here or there with one or two families joining until about five years ago when, with deliberate intent, we planned together. We’ve already booked next year’s dates.

Traditions can also be intentional. Five years ago, I decided to surprise the family with fresh doughnuts, fried on site. I packed my big mixing bowl and all the ingredients. Tim mans the deep fryer, and everyone pitches in to help. There’s a variety of glaze flavours and toppings – lemon glaze with raspberry powder sprinkled on top, or maple glaze with bacon. It’s become the grandchildren’s job to glaze and decorate the donuts. They exercise their creativity by unlikely pairings like lavender-rose powder on a maple glaze, or coconut on an Earl Grey glaze. They end up with sticky fingers, huge smiles, and are welcome to eat all the doughnuts and doughnut holes they want.

Friends thought I was crazy, but I wanted to do something to create memories for my grandchildren. The tradition has become so successful that one grandchild insists he only comes camping because of the doughnuts. Not quite true, but heartwarming.

Repeated and shared experiences foster connection and create core memories. Traditions remind individuals that they are part of a larger group, in this case, a family. They know that they are loved intensely. I hope that, in the years to come, perhaps when Tim and I have left this earth, our grandchildren will remember fresh doughnuts on camping trips. Or who knows, they might remember something much less deliberate, like picking blueberries from our garden. Memory-making is often random, and a large variety of experiences offers a rich selection for their brains to choose from throughout life.

Have you deliberately or accidentally created unique traditions in your family or circle of friends? I’d love to hear about them.