A Balance of Old and New
Of all the seasons, autumn is one of my favorites. Competing with my husband for who can elicit the most fallen leaf crunches under our feet, it’s also a return to turtlenecks, an earlier onset of twilight, and the holidays which signifies the gathering of extended family, surrounded by a smorgasbord of Filipino and American food.
The coming of autumn signals the passing of another year gone by. And while these days familial gatherings are often interspersed by the scrolling of smartphones and busy schedules, I hearken back to the times as kids when boredom resulted in the most absurd and entertaining activities. From gathering in a windowless bathroom to tell ghost stories (but mostly to scare the youngest cousins) to sledding down the stairs with cardboard sleds and plastic hampers, these memories will stick with me as a fond remembrance of childhood.
It felt easier then, where as children of immigrant parents we seemed to have no choice but to band together to celebrate good and bad times, the holidays acting as a savored cherry atop the end of another proverbial year. It’s something that the passing of time, age, and life has changed, as I see family less frequently in person, limited more to social media postings and word-of-mouth updates from parents and siblings through sidebar conversations or hushed tones.
And while it might be easy to characterize family get-togethers as solely revolving around these happy childhood moments, I also have to consider the reality of life as an adult. These gatherings are not free of aversion from elders’ topic choices revolving around my marriage, family, and personal choices. Setting boundaries and choosing not to attend to conversations that cause harm, hurt, or jealousy (Wang, 2022) are necessary helpings served alongside pecan pie and palabok. They are a power that I intentionally hold for myself and those I hold dear to me.
It’s truly bittersweet to know that the people who I love so much can also be the ones who hurt me the most and who I have the most complicated relationships with. This is a complexity to hold gently as the holidays roll around once again. Just as the season is fleeting I realize that so is my time with them, as children grow taller and aunts and uncles start to stoop with age every coming season. Holding these boundaries is a precarious balance to be able to do, one that has come with much time and pause, starts and stops.
And so this season while I embrace my family, this has also grown into a time to know myself and hold true to my own needs, even if it sometimes means cutting party time short to head home and crunch leaves on a walk with my husband, while reminiscing tales of childhood.
References:
Wang, J. (2022). Permission to Come Home: Reclaiming Mental Health as Asian Americans. Balance.
