Tradition

Every year before Thanksgiving, I buy a new jar of poultry seasoning.

I don’t use poultry seasoning very often during the rest of the year, so you’d think I wouldn’t have to buy a new jar. I can never find the previous year’s jar in time to start prepping the food, however, no matter how hard I look.

Every once in a while, I’ll find the missing jar a day or two after Thanksgiving. I’ll carefully set it next to the current year’s jar and whisper to myself, “Now you have two; don’t forget where you put them so you don’t end up buying something you don’t actually need next year.” But then, the following year, the cycle of loss repeats itself, and poultry seasoning goes back on my shopping list.

Most often, the missing jar(s) simply never appears. It’s a mysterious event, like two socks going into the wash and one sock coming out, or cupboards full of Tupperware lids without matching Tupperware containers. I’ve learned to accept it and just get on with things.

In the midst of all that’s different this year, I especially appreciate the little moments of continuity – the expected, the familiar – when they do occur.

Here’s to tradition.