Kissing your sweetie was an important part of the New Year tradition, like the Southern tradition of eating black-eyed peas on New Year's Day for good luck. The superstition behind the kiss was that what you're doing at midnight on New Year's Eve would be what you'll be doing the most of for the following year. There weren't quite as many people at the get together last night. Only a few kids showed up, and they were drinking as much or more than their parents, not exchanging gifts. I didn't have a sweetie to kiss, but that's not a complaint. I was happy to be spending time with friends and that seems like a wonderful activity for the upcoming year.
I spent New Year's Eve 2018 in Sugar Land. Some neighbors down the street invited me to their house and there were a lot of neighborhood people there. Most of them I did not know, but it was nice to meet them and visit a bit and learn a bit about them. I snuck out sometime before the ball dropped, walking the half block back home in a cold, for Houston, wind. Everyone was nice, but I was uncomfortable. The holidays require a lot of social energy, and I was running low.
As I laid in bed that New Year's Eve, sleeplessly watching the alarm clock tick over from '18 to '19, I realized that on New Year's Eve 2016 I did not kiss my sweetie at midnight. She was in Plano. I was in Sugar Land. She had spent New Year's Eve with friends and family in Plano, while I stayed in Sugar Land and unpacked. We had just moved into our new house and there was a lot to do. That night, as she was getting in bed, she coughed hard and felt some pain in her chest. We soon learned that the cancer had returned. That story has been told. I'm not re-telling it all here. I'm not superstitious. Midnight on New Year's Eve is just another moment in time. But it is a marker, a remembering point. Memories are not mistakes or triumphs. They are what you make them, and it seems that over time the good ones win out over the bad.
Last night I left shortly after 11PM. It's a long drive from Plano to Fort Worth and I didn't want to be on the road after midnight with a bunch of rookie drinkers. I was on I-30 headed west with the downtown Fort Worth skyline coming into view when I started noticing sporadic fireworks. Small ones, nothing too showy, probably set off in someone's backyard, hoping the neighbors didn't call the police. Someone's tradition. Someone's superstition. Someone wanting to mark the moment, spark some excitement, and ignite some good luck and happiness for the new year. Here's hoping we all get good luck and happiness in the coming year, regardless of our traditions!
I tossed and turned a bit last night, before finally falling asleep. Anxious, as always, about the things to do and the things undone, I finally relented to sleep by convincing myself that I could put off those things for a fews hours, until tomorrow and a new day.
This morning, as always, the sun came up and life continued, despite the momentous marker of being New Year's Day. I was reminded that today was a dear friend's birthday, the anniversary of another friend's wedding, and a day when everyone "starts over" by making resolutions or just simply being able to close the book on the previous calendar year. I'm not much on resolutions, they seem a bit contrived to me, but I assume they work in their own way for many people because the tradition continues. It makes sense, in a way. It's a permanent marker kind of date. But three or five or seven weeks from now, January 1 is just another day when the sun came up, and it loses the magic, the spark of being a new year.
I feel like I have done a lot of starting over recently. New jobs. New home. New relationships. Starting over doesn't always work out like you want. Too often when we "start over" our goal is to meet our own needs, to make ourselves happier or healthier. I kissed my sweetie on New Year's Eve because I wanted to keep kissing her. I should have been looking at it the other way round. When you kiss someone, do it to make them happy, not for your own agenda or need. Their happiness should be your reward.
If I have a resolution this year it is to be more selfless, to worry about other's happiness more than my own, to ignore my own discomfort if my presence is helpful to someone else. I would like to give more happiness than I take. I don't want to be the person who thrives on conflict and complaint. I've known too many people in my life like that. I've tried not to be that person, but I fear that sometimes I slip into that mode, that mindset that if someone else is happy it is somehow stolen from me, despite knowing that happiness can only be given, not taken. Or, worse, that somehow my happiness is dependent on someone else. What an unfair burden that is. You put them in a no win situation and sure enough, no one wins.
Give some happiness. You'll get plenty in return. Happy New Year, everyone!
