05. The Things We Choose To Keep

There comes a point when you realize not everything you grew up with has to follow you forever.

Some things do. Some things you want to hold onto with both hands. A recipe. A holiday tradition. The way your mother makes people feel welcome the second they walk through the door. Something your grandmother always said. The instinct to feed someone when they are upset, tired, celebrating, visiting, leaving. Those things feel easy to keep. They feel like home.

But growing up also means realizing that inheritance is not always automatic. Sometimes you get to choose. What stays. What changes. What ends with you. I think that is one of the stranger parts of becoming an adult.

For so long, you are simply receiving. A family. A way of doing things. Certain expectations. Certain habits. Certain ideas about what life is supposed to look like. And then, eventually, you find yourself building a life of your own. Your own home. Your own routines. Your own family. And suddenly you are no longer only carrying what came before you. You are deciding what comes next.

I think about that more now that I have Sebastian. There are things I hope he grows up thinking have always existed. Certain meals. Certain holidays. The way our kitchen feels when everyone is together. The smell of coffee in the morning. Music playing while dinner is being made. The idea that there is always room for one more person at the table. I love the thought that some of those things might become part of his definition of home. But I also know that building a life is not about recreating the one you came from perfectly. It shouldn’t be.

There are things we inherit because they were beautiful. There are things we inherit simply because nobody ever thought to question them. And there are things that made sense for another generation but may not make sense for us. I think maturity is learning the difference. Not rejecting where you came from. Not romanticizing every part of it either. Just looking at it honestly. Keeping what still feels meaningful. Changing what needs changing. Leaving behind what no longer belongs. And maybe adding a few things that are entirely your own.

I used to think traditions were things handed down to you. Now I think some of them are. And some of them are created quietly, in the middle of ordinary life, without anyone realizing yet that they will one day be remembered.

Maybe Sebastian will have traditions I never had. Maybe he will keep some of mine. Maybe he will change them again. I hope he does. Because growing up teaches us where we came from. But getting older teaches us that we have a say in what comes next. And maybe that is what building a life really is.

Keeping the things that still feel like home.

And making room for everything that hasn’t been created yet.

There’s more to tell.

— Stefania