As someone who has never spent Thanksgiving in a large family gathering filled with turkey dinners and football watch parties, the day has never been high on my favorite holiday list. Watching the Macy’s Parade on TV and going out to a nice restaurant is more my family’s speed because extended family can be stressful and football is boring. The real holiday excitement and magic lie in the late night hours when dinner is long over and the Christmas season is now acceptable to begin; it’s time for Black Friday. There’s no debate that the stereotypical Black Friday experience is a capitalist nightmare. Crowded malls are filled with overzealous shoppers vying for the new marked-down television or popular kid’s toy. Or the long lines at clothing stores that don’t actually have the good items in stock, so it’s better to buy online anyway. Luckily for me, my Black Friday memories have always been much fonder thanks to the traditions my mom started with me at a young age.
Our nights always began with a trip to Starbucks to satisfy a need to be caffeinated to survive the shopping journey ahead. My tastes have slowly evolved over the years from hot chocolates and frappuccinos to caramel brulee lattes, but the need for a snowman sugar cookie has never faltered. Then as we make the 20-minute drive to the promised land of Park Meadows Mall in Lone Tree, CO, classic Christmas tunes are playing through the speakers and into my soul. Now that Thanksgiving has ended, hearing “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” somehow feels more freeing and joyful. The Colorado weather is fatefully frosty, if not snowy altogether, but in my mind, it is only fitting. Once we’ve reached our destination, the stores we want to visit differ depending on my age and interests, but the nostalgic feeling never does. The sweeping architecture and warm lighting of Park Meadows are even more welcoming during the holiday season when decorated with garland and lights. It’s loud and bustling, and most of the shopping we do is through the window, but it feels festive to the core. Before heading home, sharing Del Taco crinkle-cut fries in the car is an absolute must-do tradition. Sitting in the dark parking lot, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.
Reflecting on these Black Friday nights throughout my childhood is difficult to put into words. Many of the details come back to me in a blur: it’s impossible to remember what me and my mom’s conversations consisted of, or what special item I wanted to find on our shopping spree. But what provokes me more than anything are the feelings tradition can create year after year that stand the test of time. The love I feel spending quality time with my mom, and the pure excitement that comes from gift-giving. Tradition manifests child-like feelings of wonder that sometimes feel long extinct. As long as they live on year after year, so will the holiday magic.