New Year’s Eve, what are you doing?
When the boys were young, and Dave and I were lucky enough to be home (not working at some restaurant or other), we would stay up until midnight together. We invited the new year into our lives as though it was, in fact, a new beginning.
At the stroke of midnight (or the descent of the sparkly ball in Times Square on television (delayed 3 hours, mind you)), we would take pots, pans, and wooden spoons out to the front yard, and bang on them in otherwise quiet neighborhoods. We loved our disturbance of the dark night, the time (our time zone, that is) when one year advanced to the next. Another of our family rituals that has now slid into the past.
I used to call my mom every New Year’s Eve, precisely at midnight to wish her well for the new year. She was always awake, and watching that sparkly ball on TV. It didn’t matter if I was 16 at a friend’s house, or 24 at a party with my husband, or 38 and calling from work. She was always there, waiting by the phone, knowing I would call to help her through a lonely time. Since Daddy died when she was 37 (was it?), I felt like part of my job as her kid, was to help her over the more terrifying bumps in the road. We had this bond, even in my tumultuous teen years.
Nat and Owen always called me on New Year’s Eve, at some point in the day, or made an effort to be home with us. I talked with Nat a little while ago, melancholy was the tone. Ringing in the New Year…hmmm. I don’t hear any bells ringing tonight, but I’m happy to know that 2007 will soon be a year of memories. That line we cross over, the jump from one year to the next, is nothing more than any other 24-hour period, but we’ve attached it to a symbolic line in the sand…the year that has passed, the year yet to come.
Banging on pots and pans was our way of ringing in those new years, now long ago and far away. Dave and I used to always make sure we had a dance or two, sometimes in the middle of a restaurant, or alone in our living room. Tonight, we will simply slide one foot over the line quietly, and hope that 2008 will allow a small respite from this year’s many losses of family and friends.
Song for the night: What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve? This version sung by Harry Connick, Jr.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q5BaN3nTBgg
It’s just past 11 pm here in Dundas, Ontario, and what we are doing this New Year’s Eve is quietly praying that many years from now we will look back on 2007 as the worst year of our lives. Please, god, let there be no pain longer, deeper, wider, or higher than the pain contained in this one year.
My life as a child was difficult, far too difficult for me to greet any new year with joy and promise. My years spent as a young adult made my childhood look rosy. In all that time I never celebrated New Year’s. But then came my time…a warm time in the sun. And still I didn’t celebrate New Year’s, but only because I celebrated each day as a blessing. Then came love. Each New Year’s after Love, I shook my head in amazement that we survived a whole year of such a chaotic life together, and smiled in gratitude for the chance to live a wild and wonderful story that leaves even the grandest, most imaginative fiction looking as dull as a grocery list in comparison.
This year that wild and wonderful story ended. I know I can’t go on until I write it. No new life story will show itself until I write the last one, but it will not come out yet. I can’t find the beginning. The beginning was long before the child. Long before the Love. It begins with me because it is my story, but the part with the child is the only part I want to tell. So this New Year’s Eve I sit and wish for knowledge of The Beginning.
steph
Steph, start in the middle if you can’t go back to The Beginning. Growth and leadership can start in the middle and grow upwards through the leaves, and downwards through the roots. Start somewhere. That’s all we have, most of the time. The knowledge is there in your history. Telling the story is the hard part. It’s all there.
Love to you in this new year,
Linda
Linda: Well, once again the parallels are interesting. I also took my daughter out in the yard on New Years Eve to hit the pots and pans, because my grandmother told me that’s what they did. We would march up and down our long driveway, clanging them and hitting them with spoons, shouting “Happy New Year.” Great fun! (I’m sure the neighbors loved it!)
How precious of you to call your mother every year. I find that very thoughtful and touching.
My husband and I always stay home now. For years, he was singing every New Years Eve, and I could barely get my kiss before some strange, inebriated woman would try to get one too. They never got one though, to my knowledge! LOL! Anyway, with my husband singing in a band for years, I look forward to a quiet, cozy night at home. I know, I know…I’m getting old and settled. (And proud of it!)
So what we did right after midnight this year, was open our Christmas presents to each other! We NEVER felt lively enough until now with all the family Christmas stuff going on. So we waited, and were glad we did.
Happy New Year my friend.
(Thanks for the comments on my blog. I don’t get very many, and it’s fun to read them!) Hugs-Lonnette