Another Loss

Shrove Tuesday: breakfast for dinner

A death marked my week. With the words no thanks, Pancake Tuesday died. This British celebration has been unique to our American family for the past 16 years. On Shrove Tuesday, I cook up a large batch of pancakes to lead the boys and their friends in games such as pancake toss, pancake run, and pancake eating. The dog enjoys a feast of hotcakes lost to the ground. The winner receives a certificate, photos are taken and shared over a plate of pancakes and bacon.

As the boys matured, the event shrank to accommodate their tightened schedules. Friends no longer joined them. One by one, games were eliminated until only a simple, rushed pancake supper marked the day. 

Simon is away at school but I trusted Casey, at one time my partner- in-adventure, to embrace the idea of pancakes for supper. His ‘no, thanks’ response to my offer turned off the light and locked the door, leaving me alone with a broken heart. Pancake Tuesday is no more.

I have outgrown many family traditions, raised three children to independent adulthood, modifying holidays over the years. I am, nonetheless, surprised when experiencing the same transitions with the boys. It’s so final. It is easier to outgrow a tradition than to abandon it. They have outgrown Pancake Tuesday, but I have not.

There are no more children for me to walk through childhood. I observe the growth of my other grandchildren at a physical and emotional distance. Although much-loved, they will not own my heart like the boys do, having held it daily over the years. They will not celebrate Pancake Tuesday, their father having left home years before I adopted it.

I pack up my memories. Pancake Tuesday served its purpose, giving our family a unique event to bind us with memories we continue to share. I hate to see it go. However, when given the opportunity, I will invite them to join me on Shrove Tuesday, keeping the seed viable. Maybe, one day, they will accept.