Traditions

I’ve succumbed to the Elf on the Shelf the last 2 years. The Katianne who swore “I’ll never do the ridiculous Elf as long as I live” is now so deep into this crazy fade there is no turning back. It took me getting our Milwaukee drill out to laugh at myself. I thought “Wow… I’m really in deep with this thing.” But, like most holiday traditions, regardless of what they are, often radiate joy and happiness (unless it’s eating grandmas “famous” olive loaf dish at Christmas dinner 🤭)....  I mean my daughter even wrote about it her writing class!  (Yes, it was about the time “Ivy” taped their underwear on the wall as she hanging out in– cue embarrassment #sawitonpinterest #parentingwin) But, in all seriousness, there is nothing greater than seeing my kids filled with Christmas spirit.

As I was setting up the next days “Ivy” happenings,  it made me realize something about traditions I never really realized. After my husband's accident, traditions were one (of the many) things that helped me not crumble into a million pieces in those early days. My husband's accident happened about 2 weeks before both our kid’s birthdays and if there is one thing we love doing, it is celebrating birthdays. The day after my husband fell and he wasn’t intubated anymore, the nurse called me and said “Hey, he keeps saying your daughter's birthday is coming up and he wants to get home. Is this true?” It didn't surprise me that his first thought was trying to figure out a plan to get home– and even more so what a miracle it was his memory was functioning the way it was! That in itself in those early moments was the many miracles that happened.  I remember crying and saying to the nurse, “Yep, that's true- it’s 2 weeks away- and that sure is Chase alright!” Our traditions and rootedness as a family was his driving force to get better. It was a beautiful (yet heartbreaking) thing to experience. But I think at that hard moment, it gave me a completely different view of traditions. In the messiness of it all, I promised myself regardless of how exhausted I felt, I didn’t want to skip those traditions. Would it have been easier? Probably. But deep down I knew thats what we ALL needed. Did it feel different? Yes. But, these traditions could’ve been completely overshadowed by something way worse– so a few curbside pick ups, some phone calls, and Facetime calls later— we kept our traditions alive.

Now, I want to hold space that traditions you loved and cherish may have to do a complete 360 when navigating a loved one sustaining a TBI. I’m not here to say our life is 100% back to what it “used to be”. There have been many things we have had to navigate differently, but there also has been such a gain with new traditions that hold such a deep meaning. 

May 18th is now an honorary holiday on the Olson family calendar. It’s a day we celebrate life.  A day we celebrate and recognize my husbands team of therapists who encouraged and pushed him during his rehabilitation. It’s a day we celebrate what we got through together as a family. Every November, we climb 105 floors of Willis Tower for the incredible rehabilitation facility my husband got his care at. We plan on doing it as long as our bodies are able to. Every March we wear green to build awareness about traumatic brain injuries, and the kids call it “Dad’s special month!” These are new traditions we gained in the face of adversity.

The holiday season may look different from life before sustaining a brain injury— and maybe its been years feeling like that. I’m not a huge fan of new years resolutions, but as 2023 seems to be coming to a quick end, I hope you can take a look at the traditions you have (or maybe this will encourage you to start some new ones for 2024!)  Celebrate this holiday season on the growth you have made. Any one who is navigating this injury, with one step forward, no matter how small or insignificant it may feel, is worth celebrating.

Wishing you a magical holiday season this year, and an incredible 2024 ahead.

In this together,

Katianne