My parents and I have always been like the Three Musketeers. When I lived at home, we’d sit down to dinner every single night—no TV or cell phones, though my dad would leave the soccer game on in the living room and spring from his chair to stand at the edge of the kitchen to catch a good play. (Or if he heard the signature “Gooaaaallllll!” roaring from the announcer.)
We took family vacations regularly and rarely experienced big events separately. For instance, whenever I had a performance at school, my parents always made sure that one of them was there. If they had to, they’d miss work to support me during one of my silly shows.
My father passed away almost two years ago, but my mom and I still try to eat dinner together and regularly have shopping dates. When my grandma was alive, we also had certain rituals like playing a childhood Russian talking game while we strolled along the streets of New York City. When my parents and I made our annual summer visit to see her and my other close family in NYC, we’d always attend a Broadway show and at least one museum.
Big or small, family rituals are important. These and other family rituals make up some of my most cherished memories with my loved ones.
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