I have very specific memories of the schedule my family kept around Easter. We bought our new Easter clothes and yes, bonnets, at least a month ahead of time. There was Good Friday mass at school and a half-day – hurray! All of Saturday was taken up by trotting around flower stands with our Dad to find the right kind of flower to match each relative’s personality: Great Aunt Mimi liked ones she could plant in her garden; Nana Wil liked yellow ones; and so on. That night we painted eggs, in the morning our parents hid them, and we gorged on the massive baskets our parents gave us, everything in duplicate so there could be no fighting.
Me and my sister at a family gathering. This was Christmas, not Easter, but you get the idea.
And then, of course, the visiting. We timed the visits to all our relatives very carefully, centered around meals and mass and not eating too much at one house or you’d seem rude when you were offered another dinner shortly after. There was an order to things, with the trunk of our car filling with Easter chocolates and candies and toys.
When I told my then-boyfriend and now-husband about it, assuming that was also his family’s ritual, he just said that sounded exhausting. In the decade we were together before we became parents, holiday traditions were something to be ignored (like Valentine’s Day, why put so much pressure on one day when we showed our appreciation all the time?) or created from scratch (Christmas became a full-day marathon viewing of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, complete with meals themed to the movie).
Because we lived far enough away from our parents, even while in the same country, we had the freedom to create our own holidays; we weren’t beholden to uphold a tradition or a relative ritual just because it was expected. There was one time when we didn’t really have a choice in our kids being part of festivities, and that was two years ago.
Before we moved to Beijing, my spouse and I had to visit the city to find a home and get other details of our move-in order. The most trusted babysitter our kids had at the time was an active participant in her church, and it was there that our kids were introduced to the Easter bunny, Easter baskets, and essentially an all-you-can-eat candy feast. We had agreed to it ahead of time because we adore this woman and she promised they wouldn’t watch the mass or anything religious if we didn’t want them to.
Their more “traditional” Easter in 2019 versus last weekend.
As we moved across the world, that privilege only became more acute. Now we weren’t even in a country that really celebrated our American holidays, or at least didn’t inundate you with their commercial side the minute you walked into a grocery shop. Plus, we had a whole new batch of holidays to learn. Even when surrounded by expat events that felt familiar, we could choose between dinner with our chosen family or community experiences. We could choose.
Hanging out with people at our own pace meant we were able to stop and look at murals or collect nature treasures.
At no time was that more obvious to me than last weekend and Easter. The kids and I had already decorated our own eggs, so they didn’t really want to do that. Instead, we spent every day of the long weekend with different groups of friends at various parks or favorite spots around Beijing. Some little issues with the parks notwithstanding, we took the time to really be with people and embrace our long weekend. There were Easter egg activities for sure, and chocolate hunting, but it was all at our own pace and on a loose schedule we had created, not one handed down from the oldest generation that dictated how we would spend not just one day, but the entire long weekend.
That is just one of the interesting freedoms about being an expat that really appeals to us. I have kept the bin of tried and true holiday books and decorations that stay meaningful to our kids year after year, but at no point did they ask why they didn’t get an Easter basket, or why there wasn’t more candy. We made a point to appreciate the uniqueness of every outdoor area we visited and build deeper relationships with their friends here. We’re all aware of how transitory the life of an expat can be, and how many times we must say goodbye and learn how to say hello in yet another language.
I’m grateful their memories will be full of relationships and adventures, and not someone else’s traditions.
KEEP READING: Teaching Kids About Finances: The Expat Mom
Images: Cindy Marie Jenkins
