Creating Traditions Because They Matter

I have a complex relationship with the holidays. The thought of spending time with family and friends comes with baggage – nostalgia for cold beer, loud conversation and roasting pig sizzling to “Quimbara” on a humid Miami night, quickly reality-checked by memories of Black Friday retail hell and the mad race to January clearance sales. For close to twenty years, my holidays were gobbled up by sixty hour-work weeks, sales performance calls and solo dinners. I was always leaving the party before it began.

In 2011, I asked a server at Ted’s Montana Grill in Tallahassee, FL to lay down an extra place-setting and shared a portion of my meal with an empty chair. I had been on the road visiting stores for almost fifteen hours and made the decision to forego the gas station sandwich experience for a sit-down meal. I was lonely. That night was the beginning of a tradition that outlived my retail career. 

An Air Force veteran all too familiar with missing family events, my wife quickly adopted “my” tradition and taught me about the “Missing Man Table” honoring fallen, POW/MIA servicemen and the rituals around its presentation. For the past eight years we’ve filled plates and wine glasses to share with those not with us. We video chat with those we can and raise a toast to the others we can’t reach as easily.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day. My wife, little one and I are hundreds of miles from our nearest family or friends. We will be visiting a small town in Galicia, Spain named Padrón to take a picture in the same spot I did with my brother, father and grandfather over forty years ago (and maybe eat a very spicy pepper or two). As always, we will set an extra plate and glass for our missing ones – grateful for the opportunities and love they’ve provided along the way.