I sit here, the day after the wedding, handing out Halloween candy and contemplating how odd tradition is. Think about it, American children dress up in costumes portraying something they aren’t and come to your door demanding sweets; and it is perfectly normal for a person to answer their calls of “Trick or Treat.” Everyone knows what October 31st means. Shortly before nightfall all the houses in the neighborhood stock the candy bowl in anticipation of children coming to get the candy.
Imagine being an outsider and observing this tradition. It is strangely bizarre, yet universally accepted. Maybe it’s not so much tradition that is strange, but the people. The people who carry on the tradition and adapt it to their own lives are the ones who make tradition what it is today, and give pieces to what it will be in the future.
For instance, at my house, when Santa comes he brings only the big gifts. Things like the Nintendo, an American Girl Doll, and family DVD player, are left unwrapped in the living room. All the other presents under the tree have been wrapped by mom and dad and have been awaiting opening for several days. Most of this tradition, which I found to be drastically different from my friends’, comes from my dad’s childhood. My mom, however, received only one present from her mother and father; the rest arrived neatly wrapped and placed around the tree by Santa Clause.
This makes me wonder what will happen at the new Johnson household once kids arrive. Although it is probably another 5 or so years away, it makes me think. How will the traditions of two families become one tradition?
As I write this, Chris and Dayna Johnson are flying over the Pacific Ocean on their way to Hawaii. The wedding was wonderful. Entirely beautiful, and almost flawless. (If you’re curious as to what flaws did occur, you’ll have to ask Dayna, for it is not my story to tell. Needless to say, Chris’s ring didn’t quite fit.) The ceremony was excellent, and entirely personal, the food was amazing, and the DJ didn’t play any rap (except for the songs we requested).
My own personal demise was walking down the aisle. It was my first time all dressed up, presenting myself in front of everyone, and I cried the whole time. Colin was wonderful though. He felt me tense up before we stepped off. He looked at me and said kindly, “You’ll do fine. Just look at Chris’s face. Look how happy he is.” Although watching Chris smile probably made me cry even harder, it was nice to have a brotherly figure there to comfort me at such a difficult time. Seeing Chris standing there, awaiting his bride, made my heart skip a beat as I remembered him standing over my bed telling me it was time to wake up to open presents, all the times he read Scary Stories and screamed at the end (despite my pleas not to), building couch cushion forts, and running through the house because walking just took too much time. I knew at this moment my childhood had officially ended, and a new epic of our lives was about to begin. I couldn’t help but cry.
Dayna looked like an angel, and Chris took my breath away. The way he gazed intently into her eyes as they said their vows made me tear up once again. And watching them dance alone under the mirrorball is a memory I hope to never forget. Chris doesn’t show his emotion about much, but the way he looked at her said it all—he loves her.
Pictures are coming soon. I won't forget you, I promise.