I look at my Christmas tree, drooping from the weight of the ornaments and strands of lights. In my hand is my list of New Year’s resolutions. I look between the two and am reminded of how our culture is steeped in traditions. Season to season, year to year, we mark our growth and keep close to those who matter with new and old family traditions alike.

As a child at E.J. Blott Elementary School in Liberty, I made Christmas ornaments for my parents. Somewhere in a box in my basement, I still have the construction paper reindeer with handprint antlers that I made in Mrs. Gardner’s kindergarten class. On the branches of my Christmas tree, my children and I hung ornaments that reveal my ages and stages in life, as well as their own.

The pale green teddy bear ornament, marked on the back with “Laurie 1973,” which was made for me by my godmother in the year I was born. The handpainted dog with “LE 1986” on the back. The plastic canvas mailbox with my initials and working flag made by my mother. The crocheted candy cane from my grandmother. They all mingle together with yearly ornaments bought or made by my children. Carebears. Dora the Explorer. The Little Mermaid. A handprint reindeer bulb made by Tyler in Mrs. Conway’s class. A crystallized pine tree made by Allison in Miss Gerke’s class. A ribbon Christmas tree that Annie got at the Girard Drama Club Christmas party this year.

As the New Year approached, I asked my friends what their resolutions were. Surprisingly (or maybe not), none of my friends made them. One friend said she breaks them anyway, so what is the point? Another said they only make her feel bad about herself. Several friends instead choose words to define their New Year. Words to live by. One friend wisely said that he is happy with himself and is going to bring the same ol’ self into 2015. Another said that goals should be reevaluated throughout the year, not just on the first of January.

Me? I made resolutions. I made them because it’s a family tradition. The kids and I make New Year’s resolutions each December. We create craft projects that are goal-themed and hang them in the dining room. Throughout the year, we discuss our resolutions. Are we taking steps towards them? Did our goals change?

Traditions bring us through the year, with candies on Valentine’s Day and the first barbeque of the season. We mark our year with playlists that form the soundtrack of our days. When we hear those tunes later, the memories return. Music played in the dead of winter can remind us of summer picnics . A song played frequently during Fourth of July celebrations can bring back those memories when played again later in the year.

Some traditions are new. My family visits the Pymatuning Deer Park in Jamestown, Pa., each fall. We’ve only missed a few times since my oldest was born 13 years ago. Some traditions have been passed down to me. Sunday spaghetti and football, for instance. While we don’t listen to polkas while the sauce simmers like I did as a child, my kids do experience a piece of my past with spaghetti meals combined with Browns football on Sundays.

Even now, as I look at my Christmas tree, I can see my history. In fact, I can almost see my future, too, where handmade ornaments from future grandkids will weigh its branches as well. I wonder which traditions my children will carry with them and which new ones they will create. I smile knowing that I only have to look to Christmas trees of the future to see those traditions weighing down the branches and keeping history in the present.

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