More than 50 years ago, my grandfather invited some of his friends and his sons-in-law to his farm for a trap shoot early on Thanksgiving morning. Since that first frosty Midwest morning, the tradition has continued. Rain, snow, sleet, cold, mud and sunny autumn weather have greeted those participating in the shoot. If it were bitterly cold, a couple of log fires were built for people to gather around while waiting their turn. Coffee arrived in thermoses of all shapes and sizes. A friend of my grandfather’s gave a safety talk including a strict no alcohol ruling before shooting began. In my grandfather’s lifetime all of the shooters were men. It was definitely an all-male event intended to get the guys out of the house while the meal was being prepared. My male cousins started out learning to operate the clay pigeon thrower inside the protected “house” when they are 9 or 10. Outside, shooters took turns “on the line” from five different stations. “Pull!” they shouted when ready, watching the clay pigeon fly and taking a shot. No matter the number of guys who gathered, the shoot always finished by mid-morning so that people could get back to their families. When I learned to drive, my sister and female cousins began “crashing” the shoot. There was just something so inviting about being outdoors for several hours, hanging about fires, telling stories…that lured us there as well. Even after the death of my grandfather and his host-successor (my father), many members of the “old guard,” and the sale of Granddad Tuck’s farm, the tradition has had its own staying power. Friends of the family moved the Thanksgiving shoot tradition to their farm. And more and more women have joined in. Now the safety talk includes an opening prayer where the names of those who have died are called into the crisp morning air. The competition is always joyful and jovial –sibling rivalries show up, jokes are told, new folks are welcomed into the fold and the fourth generation of shooters are mentored by adults who stand with them on the line. What we hold on to This sturdy tradition makes me ponder what we hold on to during the holidays. After a death, so much has changed that traditions can feel completely out of place. At the same time, as with this tradition – there is something deeply grounding about carrying on. Even in the blush of first holidays without loved ones (for we are of an age where many have died), this tradition has been a beacon. The blend of a gathering of people in the cold outdoors with the sense of being part of something bigger than oneself. As this holiday season stretches before you, what traditions will you hold on to? If this is the first holiday season without a loved one, what will feel most comforting? Even if you find yourself awash with grief, immobilized by your loss….is there one simple thing that will be soothing? A special food to prepare; one element of decoration; a favorite sweater or piece of jewelry worn by your loved one – seek out that one thing that will sustain you in the challenge of a holiday that seems raw with grief. Choose that one thing and do that.