How would you feel if it seemed your holiday traditions were set by the wayside?

If this is too long and you don’t want to read it, don’t. No need to comment about it.

As Mom / Gramma, I have always been the host of Thanksgivings.
This picture was taken before my son and DIL met, so their 4 kids aren’t in there, and my youngest daughter, next to my son, only had the two kids. The twins hadn’t been born yet. So that’s 6 more kids to come!

My son and DIL bought a house in 2014 and it has a LOT of room. Very, very spacious, so as the family exploded it only made sense to start gathering there. However, my DIL used to feel very uncomfortable around a lot of people, especially in her house. It just made her anxious, and she has emotional issues, so in the years we were here for Thanksgiving, we took them to Golden Corral or a larger venue for Thanksgiving
(Sneaking in one of my favorite picture of cousins!)

A couple of years ago, though, my DIL started coming around and we had Thanksgiving at their house in 2017. They invited us again this year and we accepted.

I have always had a couple of traditions that are really important to me. One is making my home made beer bread, and the kids LOVE to help. They really take ownership of that bread. They each get their own little loaf. Sometimes I’d be making more bread as fast as it got eaten! One time I ended up making 3 batches of bread and it all got eaten.

The other tradition is my Top Secret Stuffing that I got from the kid’s paternal aunt a million years ago.

In 2017 we camped out at a park down the street from their house for the whole of Thaksgiving week. I made bread and I baked the stuffing in the oven. I also took a pie and my salmon dip, which is nothing special. It’s really, really good, but nothing special.

My son and his wife met working in food services at a retirement home. The Thanksgiving dinner was run something like that. Everything came from a can or a package. The potatoes were instant. The gravy was from a mix and it was beef gravy. Everything was in these mini crock pots being kept warm. In fact, they got the crock pot unit from the retirement home. My son still works there, but he’s in maintenance now.

The other day my son told me the only thing I was “allowed” to bring was the salmon dip. Period.
I said, “No bread?”
He looked at his wife who slightly shook her head no.
“No stuffing?” Another look and slight shake of the head. Obviously this is not his idea, but I respect him backing her up.
I am glad she’s not so anxious any more. I think Chris and this family have a lot to do with that. But I still feel like I’m being cut out of something. I won’t be here for ever, and it’s like they’re getting rid of my traditions prematurely.