3 of 348

Write now Article Tools

Watching the truck idle in the driveway, windshield barely defrosting, as fog filled the driveway I had to wonder how cold this was going to be. I called the boys again. "Boys! Coats and boots!" They scurried up the stairs and started slipping on ski-pants and boots. I smiled softly as I knew how excited they were for today. The memories I was building with my boys were astounding. I had done this same thing more than thirty years earlier with my grandfather.

It was late December and only a little more than a week to go before Christmas day. Here we were heading out to the family farm to cut a tree down and bring home. We drove out there taking nearly an hour. Then we hopped on our snow machine, hooked up the sled and headed into the cottage to get a small fire lit.

Once the chores were done we didn't grab a chain saw, no, we stuck to the tradition. We grabbed the axe and walked back into the forest looking for just the right tree. After a brief search I head my oldest boy call out that he found one. "This one looks good dad, can we cut this one down?"

I couldn't wipe the smile from my face all day. Between getting the tree and keeping the cottage warm so we could have lunch out here, we also did some ice fishing. Each winter we head out here and enjoy some time in the cold like this. And even now we use a wood stove to warm our feet when we get too cold.

The only difference now is my boys now warm up in front of a new air-tight wood stove, when I was a boy it was in a cook stove and my feet were in the oven on a life magazine. It's a minor detail in the grand scheme of things. Traditions are traditions. Being out here is ours. This time of year is something we all look forward to and not just for the presents next week.

The best memories used to be the ones I cherished most. Now they seem to be the ones I'm creating. I feel nostalgic, and warmed in the deepest parts of my heart. These are memories I know my boys will carry with them for life. They will also be able to pass on these traditions to their boys as I have to them no matter where they live.

I grew up in the city but my grandfather used to bring me out to get a tree each year. When he was a boy he lived out here so it was common place to do this. He chose to do this, to keep this tradition alive in his family and I am thankful he did. And now living in the city myself I choose to bring my boys out here as well to carry on that same tradition.

In fact my family is steeped with traditions reaching at least three hundred years of our family's history here in North America. Before that my people lived in Germany where I am sure they had different traditions. Even my middle name, David, has been a middle name for my son, my grandpa and also his father and his father before him.

Considering how much the world doesn't like to keep the old fashioned ways of doing things, traditions mean a lot more to my family now than they ever did. It used to be a way to remember the way things used to be done. Now it's about keeping a way of life alive. Making sure the next generations doesn't loose the best parts from the generation before it.

Learn more about this author, Rob Fretz.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.

Add your voice

Know something about Your most meaningful family traditions?
We want to hear your view. Write now!