Breaking Traditions

I know, usually I use this little corner of the internet to bash those lackadaisical members of either my family or faith who don’t step up and keep “tradition” for the next generation. But, I realized today that my daughter is both older than 16 and a senior in high school. Tradition in my family dictates that at some point in the next 6 months she should receive…a cedar chest. Due to my poor parenting skills, if I were to ask Emily what a cedar chest was her response would undoubtedly be, “…a chest… of cedar?...” obviously… but if I were to further question her as to the traditional purpose of a cedar chest she would just stare at me.

Alright, I am willing to concede that there are traditions that can die, and this is one of them. Growing up my sisters all had cedar/hope chests, my Mom had a cedar/hope chest, and I’m pretty sure my Grandma had a cedar chest. For those not familiar with the purpose of a cedar/hope chest, it was designed to fill with future home-making items that would be used when a young woman got married and magically became domesticated. Kind of like a house hold trousseau. Such wonderful things as embroidered dish clothes, custard bowls, and quilts were common hope chest items. Also, they held treasured items that you couldn’t quite throw away but didn’t know what to do with, such as the cap and gown from you graduation, your high school prom memorabilia, etc.

Growing up my sisters and I would occasionally comb through my mother’s hope chest, and be amazed at how tiny some of her treasured clothes were, the old wedding announcements or even question why one of my Dad’s old suit coats were in it. Then came the day when I got a hope chest, it took up space in my bedroom and being so domestically minded I immediately wondered what in the heck you were supposed to put in there. Over time it eventually became a catch-all for things well intentioned people gave me that I had no idea what to do with, like a set of nesting Tupperware bowls, some china and a really big crocheted afghan with giant roses on it. Currently it still holds that afghan, my wedding dress (which was also my mothers’), a cap and gown, some baby blessing clothes, and….I have no idea what else. Over the years that darn thing has followed me everywhere and like my sister’s hope chests, has become a decorating challenge and an item of scorn by every Elder’s Quorum brave enough to help one of us move.

I can’t get rid of the darn thing, it’s my hope chest. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it either. Donna bravely got rid of hers after 40 years, and it was hideous early 1970’s style, I think it had been through about 93 moves. My mother has hers in her garage, and Ellen’s at the foot of her bed, Nancy’s is at the foot of her bed, and so is mine…because that is what you do with them. But, in a break from my tradition I do not plan to buy (aka saddle) Emily with a cedar/hope chest. Somewhere a future husband should thank me.